Staring
by racketeer
Summary: Lily Potter was kidnapped when she was ten, and was found aged 14. Haunted, she returns to Hogwarts for her fourth year - but will she open up about the ordeal before revenge is extracted? Also follows the relationships of RW/SM, LP/LS, TL/VW and JP/OC as they realise that Uncle Harry wasn't just any old soldier in the war, and are taught what truly happened to their parents.
1. Rescue, right?

Staring: 

(of a persons eyes) **Be wide open, with a fixed or vacant expression.**

* * *

_Now the doors were slamming all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forwards for final kisses, last-minute reminders. Albus jumped into the carriage and Ginny closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned towards Harry. _

_ 'Why are they all _staring_?' demanded Albus, as he and Rose craned round to look at the other students._

* * *

Chapter 1

In, what seemed like the distance, sirens were wailing and sparks were flying and people were shouting and Aurors were rushing. Harry pushed past them all, his mouth screaming the standard hexes whilst his mind raced ahead in overdrive, as though he was watching the events unfold through somebody else's body. He didn't know who had kicked open the door until the impact ricocheted up his body, but by then he was sprinting up the previously scouted stairs. Somebody from lower down in the department was talking to him – a reminder about how nobody could touch a victim until fingerprints had been taken or something, but Harry wasn't really listening. He couldn't focus on the buzz of voice.

Because he had instead chosen to focus on the terror-stricken emaciated child, cowering in the dank, shadowed corner of the room.

Harry breathed in sharply and the buzz seemed to come into focus. The lights became brighter as though somebody had turned them up. It was the sort of silence which was so intense and palpable that you could hear it, as his colleagues attempted to become part of the furniture; to allow the Boy Who Lived to be reunited with his daughter, in peace.

'Affirmative,' Harry croaked. Her face was skeletal and gaunt, her lips were powder blue and her hair was matted to her forehead. But nonetheless, here was the child who had wreaked havoc in his dreams every single evening for the past four years. He took a few steps towards her, but stopped himself. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and hug her so tight towards him that their tortured chests would beat side by side, once again. But if his profession had taught him anything, it was to not to enter a child's personal space after a period of distress.

And the appearance of his child screamed, above all else, distress.

In fact, a blind, deaf man would laugh at the insinuation of this human being merely distressed, as you could smell a foul odour from across the room.

'Lily?' He gasped. There was a pause for a moment, and then the girls sunken, glassy eyes slowly rolled up - partially cross-eyed - to meet his, as though vaguely recalling the word from a former life. 'It's me, Lily,' He breathed. 'It's Dad.'

'… Daddy?'

She pressed her spindly hands against the wall and clawed herself up shakily. Harry's hand shot out to steady her, but she flinched back instinctually, causing her legs to give way as the emerald orbs rolled to the back of her skull.

Harry lunged to catch her, consequences be damned, screaming for people to help as treacherous, agonised tears streamed down his enraged cheeks as he realised it wasn't dirt, but bruises, which clung to her skin, before being shoved out of the way by pitiful paramedics.

_'O-O'_

Gently moving his wife's head from where it lay on his shoulder, to sleep against the speckled wall of the visitor's room, Harry stood up impatiently. He felt numerous pairs of eyes tracing him as he began to pace the room. But he found that he didn't care enough to respond to the curious glances of strangers. Because at that moment all he cared about was his daughter, in the room down the corridor, on life support.

Harry remembered that night clearly, although he had often tried to suppress it. Lily Luna had been exactly ten years, eleven months and three days old when she had pattered out of the back door of their cosy home and never pattered back in again.

_Harry was just in the nick of time to catch his girl as Albus and James pushed past them, clad in formal wear, almost sending the youngest flying, who had been standing at the top of the landing. _

_'Sorry Frilly Lily,' James called apologetically over his shoulder._

_'Yeah, Frilly Lily,' Albus repeated, chuckling to himself before proceeding to collide with the eldest sibling who had stopped, upon his mother's orders, to tuck his shirt in. _

_'Do I have to come downstairs tonight?' Lily asked her father whinily._

_'The whole family's coming 'round,' he replied, confused. 'Do you not feel well?'_

_'That's right,' she hurriedly replied. 'I have a tummy ache.'_

_'Why didn't you just say?' Harry smiled, before brushing her long, brown, glossy locks off of her forehead to check for a fever. 'How bad is it? You go climb into bed –mine if you want. Some sleep ought to do it - would a hot chocolate help?' Harry lifted her up, snuggling the little thing as he set her down upon his big comfy bed. As he knelt down to brush a kiss to her forehead, he noticed the suppressed smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 'I'll go get your mum and some pyjamas. We'll be back up in just a moment with the medicine.'_

_Lily's smile transformed abruptly into a horrified expression. 'Not __**the Medicine**__?' she exclaimed, and Harry nodded innocently. 'In fact, you know what daddy, I'm feeling a lot better. But I told you a fib – I apologise and I'll send myself straight to my bedroom for the rest of the nigh-'_

_Harry held out an arm to block his daughter's path as she made to dart past him, head bowed. She slowly turned to face him guiltily, knowing the game was up._

_'Lily?' Harry pressed. 'Tell me what's going on.'_

_'Nothing!' She insisted, but cowered under her father's 'no bullshit' stare, '… is Lysander going to be here tonight?' _

_'Of course he is, along with Lorcan and Rolf,' Harry replied in a baffled tone, 'This whole evening is to commemorate the first anniversary of their mothers passing, after all. You know that. Why do you ask?'_

_'I don't think Sander wants to be my friend anymore,' she said sadly._

_'Don't be silly, Lily,' Harry ruffled her hair, making it even more messy. 'You and the twins have been best friends since – well, since birth!'_

_'Well, Lorcan's still nice to me,' she argued stubbornly, her bottom lip jutting out._

_'What happened?' Harry asked softly, her lip pouting was always a clear sign that something was genuinely bothering her._

_'Nothing!' Lily suddenly burst. 'I did nothing at all - and he hates my guts, daddy!'_

_'Nobody could hate you, lily.'_

_'My best friend does!' She replied dramatically._

_'Well, hiding from your fears does nothing but prolong them,' Harry advised, as he didn't really want to get involved. He knew the Scamander family had been wearing apart at the seams since Luna's death and didn't want to cause any more struggles. 'It'll all blow over. Go downstairs and speak to him - offer him one of Grandma's cookies. I'm sure everything will be fine.'_

_'Promise?'_

_'Promise,' Harry replied to the ten year old._

_But as the night drew on Harry noticed Lily's frown growing as she tried to make amends, but it became apparent that Lysander was, in fact, shunning her. Harry didn't like the fact that his daughter, who usually thrived under the attention at these get-togethers, was being increasingly quiet and withdrawn. He pointed it out to Ginny who quashed his qualms about intervention, by saying that 'children squabble.' _

_At dinner, Harry assured that the only place left for Lysander to sit was between Rose and Lily, in the hopes that they would be giggling again in no time. The meal went on and Harry soon forgot about her troubles as he revelled in the delicious meal that had been set out in front of him, complimenting his mother in law profusely._

_'It was Luna's favourite,' Molly replied with a glisten to her eye. 'She was such a unique, vivacious young girl.'_

_'Nobody else like her,' Angelina agreed._

_'She didn't die in vain,' George said softly as he placed his hand over his wife's. _

_There was a respectful quietness in the room, broken only by the clatter of cutlery and a mutter from one of the littl'uns, to which none of the adults paid attention._

_They did, however, all look up when Rose exclaimed horrified, 'What?' as Lily stared at the boy next to her, mouth agape; confusion and pain evident in her eyes._

_'I said,' He gritted his teeth. 'That it's all Lily's fault.' The adults looked around from one another in bewilderment as the cousins wondered what he was on about. He repeated, 'It's Lily's fault that my mum died last year – isn't it!?'_

_'What,' James broke the silence, 'are you talking about?' _

_Lysander ignored him. 'Why did nobody tell me she was killed – because of Lily?' He demanded, enraged._

_Lily was looking around in shock and fear, fear of rejection from her cousins. She was a murderer? She met Lorcan's eyes, who had apparently only just found out this information also. _

_'I'm a – murderer?' She squeaked. It was supposed to be a question, but sounded more like a statement, and was met with reassuring replies from her relatives, but she just sat with a shocked expression._

_'Why do you say that, Lysander?' Hermione carefully asked, neither confirming nor denying the question._

_'I overheard dad talking – mum sacrificed herself so _**she**_could live. It's her fault, isn't it?'_

_Harry was unsure as to what was said next, because a chair screeched back as it was forced away from the table, and the last thing he saw was Lily's frilly bright pink dress as it blew around the corner, before she was obscured from his view by the slamming of the back door. _

_The last thing he heard was her footsteps pattering away._

_'O-O'_

A lone owl swooped down to the Gryffindor table, interrupting the Headmistress's end of year speech. It caught the curious eye of every student, who idly wondered why the owl hadn't followed protocol and waited until the morning, as the letter fluttered down to land on James Potter's sixteen year old knee.

Curiously he turned it over and saw that it was addressed to '_kids'_ which he understood to mean himself and his nine cousins, who were dotted precariously around the hall.

The professor cast him a stern look before continuing with her farewell speech and James' eyes sped through the rushed scrawl, eyes growing larger, smile widening and hands shaking.

He stood up, unable to string together a coherent thought. "Professor– you need to read this – we need your office-"

"What is the name of this, Potter?" She interrupted him.

"It's-" James spun around, ignorant of the other students, eyes searching the Gryffindor for his younger brother. "It's Lily. They've found her."

The entire hall began speaking at once, because there was only one Lily he could be talking about – Lost Lily Potter.

There were eleven people who were the most shocked of all. Albus had sprinted towards James, ripping the letter from his clasp.

_'Kids,_

_Lily has been found. One of your uncles or aunts will be at Hogwarts to pick you up shortly. Gather your cousins and tell them to go to McGonagall's office._

_I tried to floo-call but nobody was in the office and I would have told you in person but we are with Lily right now and I knew you'd want to know as soon as possible.'_

_Mum/Aunt Ginny xx'_

He was followed by Albus, Victoire, Dominique, Louis, Fred, Roxanne, Rose, Molly, Lucy and Lorcan. Lysander pushed himself up but then, slowly sat back down and stared intently at the bit of lukewarm pasta twisted around on his fork, remembering himself.

Albus let the letter be snatched away by cousins, as he flung his arms around his older brother in ecstasy, and to his surprise James didn't push him away as guttural sobs streamed from his eyes. Instead he shielded his little brother from the rest of the hall. McGonagall stood up and walked swiftly to the broken family, leading them to her office.

_'O-O'_

'Mr. and Mrs. Potter?'

The beeping of equipment sounded louder and then became faint again as the doctor stepped out of the closed ward. Ginny jolted awake as though she had been listening out for him, as they had been absorbing any possible information; Nobody had been allowed into see her at all for the past two weeks as it had all been very intensive and Lily's immune system had been reduced to practically nothing. They'd all been together at home, almost too scared to hope. Almost.

Harry and Ginny stood up immediately, thirsty for any drop of news.

Their entire family had waited for the first couple of days, but Harry had insisted they all went home, promising to send any information he received as soon as he got it. Not that he had got much.

It had been_ three weeks_.

Three weeks of: _'Miss Potter is in critical condition.' 'Yes Sir, we are doing all that we can.' 'Miss Potter has fallen into a coma.' 'No Sir, we can't make any predictions.' 'Miss Potter isn't expected to make it through the night.' 'Yes Sir, I would suggest making arrangements.' 'Miss Potter is lucky that she was found when she was.' 'No Sir, we cannot determine precisely what occurred.' 'Miss Potter's condition is stabilising.' 'Yes Sir, she is expected to awaken soon.' _

'Your daughter is awake.' They gasped and looked at each other with renewed exhilaration and Harry squeezed Ginny's hand. 'Miss Potter has suffered an immense amount in her period in captivity. As to the extent, we cannot fathom a guess, and she is in no suitable condition for us, or yourselves, to probe into that right now. She is expected to make a full physical recovery eventually, although scars will remain – not just bodily. When she is ready to open up she will undoubtedly need a whole other kind of mental treatment – the best you can currently supply her with would be you love. Love and understanding is the best medicine, I have found.' Ginny nodded, soaking up every word as Harry waited for the _'but'_; it was almost too good to be true.

'For this reason we feel that Miss Potter will prosper more in the comfort and familiarity of her own home, so she will be sent home this evening. She must not be overwhelmed and therefore we must insist that she doesn't have lots of people coming to see her tomorrow, or the next day. I will schedule a daily check-up, so please confirm your floo address before you leave. Also, I advise you to permit up to two new visitors each day for at least 2 weeks. Let her get used to your faces first, so she can feel safe again. I understand that you have two older sons? Is it possible for them to stay elsewhere this evening?' The Healer asked.

'Of course,' Ginny said. 'They love to stay with my brother's anyway.'

'Good. Well, if you'd like to follow me.'

They did just that and as they followed him down the corridor, Harry took Ginny's hand ad pressed it to his lips, hardly believing that lily was coming home.

_'O-O'_

'Lily – darling?' Ginny said gently. 'Would you like to sleep in your room tonight, or ours?'

'Uh - mine,' Lily croaked. 'Please.'

Harry nodded, secretly disappointed, but stuck by his resolve to give his child- _teenager -_ the time and space she needed. 'You know to come straight to us if you start to feel upset in the slightest.'

'Or if you need water, or a snack, or…' Ginny wavered off, hating that she felt like she was being reintroduced to her fourteen year old daughter. 'You know the drill.'

Lily nodded and closed the door, a sigh of relief escaping her as she was alone at last.

* * *

A/N: 

Thanks for reading!

I'm several chapters ahead, and I will update soon J However, **I'm looking for a beta** so if anybody's interested then please message me. Somebody willing to throw around ideas and give me honest advice, as well as double check my chapters.

This fic will not be focused on Lily; her background is more of a basis for the rest of the fiction, which will largely be set around Scorose, Tedoire and James/OC. Lily and her relationship will play equally with this.

Also, I think that the rating of this fiction might be subject to change to an M, but I'm not sure yet.

Please let me know what you think, and whether you think that I should carry on with the fic. J


	2. Pretending

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, followed or favourite'd!

* * *

Chapter 2 - Pretending

**Two months later**

_"Stop it! They love me."_

_"There's no such thing as love. Have they bothered looking for you?"_

_"They're my family!"_

_"Family means nothing."_

_"You're wrong - families love each other!"_

_ "Love doesn't exist, fool! Families are convenience. Crucio."_

Lily jolted awake to the sound of footsteps rushing towards her bedroom.

If this was five years ago she would have thrown her covers off and leapt into her father's arms. If this was a year ago she would have huddled in the corner, feigning sleep in the hopes of being left alone. If this was a month ago she would have jumped out of her bed and hidden under it - but this wasn't a month ago. She sat up straight in panic, but upon recognising the sound of her father's familiar footsteps on the carpet, she laid back down, heart pounding against her chest and sweat beading down her forehead.

She had fought _him_, at first. Denied his claims. But Lily found that captivity soon steals any hint of naivety, and had reluctantly come to accept the truth; that love was a myth.

A nice one - true. But nevertheless a childish, indulging myth.

Sure, it was he who had planted the seed of doubt in her mind, but she only begun to question it when her emotions had turned to a pain far different from the Cruciatus curse but equally disarming, equally agonising.

The sort pain incurred by neglect.

She turned over on her side, not even wincing at the relentless throbbing in her body, as her dad hesitantly opened the door. She didn't tell them about the aches because she feared they would run more tests until they found out why, and the last thing Lily wanted was for her family to know precisely why.

Lily looked over her shoulder as the oak door creaked open and candlelight flickered into her bedroom, and met eyes with her father.

'I, uh – heard movement,' he whispered. 'The bed, it was- well um, anyway, I came to check that you were okay.'

'I'm okay,' she lied and turned back over, facing away from him.

She heard a sigh escape from him, before silence. And then, 'as soon as you feel ready to talk, Lily, you can come to me at any time of the day.' She nodded. More silence. 'You know, I had a lot of nightmares when I was a teenager.'

'What about?' She asked quietly.

'The War, mostly.'

Lily recalled how her dad had never really spoken about the war, even though he was apparently pretty involved in it, probably a soldier or something. Lily used to think that he must have been a General because people came up to them on the streets declaring their gratitude, but she'd since figured that that couldn't have been the case as he would have still been in Hogwarts at the time. However, nobody in their family ever bought it up so she'd never asked. It seemed to upset them so she'd simply cared too much to.

But now, she cared too much _not_ to. 'How bad was it?'

'Bad,' Harry noticed that Lily was making to turn away again, so clutched at straws for things to say. He decided that perhaps, if he could show that he trusted her; she would in turn feel comfortable trusting him. 'Really bad. Lots of people died unnecessarily. Including the vast majority of my family.'

'That's sad,' she said, even though she had always known that the death toll was high. Lily contemplated, 'but there are things worse than death.'

Harry's bemused eyes flew to his child, as she pulled the duvet up and over her eyes.

Yes, he felt distressed, appalled, bemused and above all _angry _- but it not at her. It wasn't Lily's fault. He wanted to kill those bastards for whatever they had done to his little girl. For stealing her from him and returning her a – a damaged product that was scared of the world. He wanted to make them pay. But he didn't even know who they were.

He ran a hand through his hair despairingly. He stood and pressed a kiss to her smooth, pale forehead, unclenching his fists as the sort of adoration only a father could understand surged over him. Not only adoration – ad_mir_ation at her strength. 'I love you, Lily.'

Just as he was closing the door, a faint, fatigued whisper ricocheted off the shadowed walls. 'Love does not exist.'

Harry stopped dead for a moment before returning to his bedroom, where the clock on the wall read 4.20am. He climbed into bed next to his beautiful slumbering wife, before punching the pillow three times with all the strength he could conjure.

'o-o'

'No dad should ever hear his daughter say – or believe - that!' Were the words that Lily awoke to, four hours later. She pulled on her new cream slippers and silently inched down the staircase for what must've only been the fifth or sixth time since her… 'return'.

'I feel like she's not ready to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow.' Lily was stood in the carpeted hall watching her parents talk through the crack in the kitchen door, and the conversation had clearly not moved on from their favourite topic of _her._ 'At first I blamed the feelings on my reluctance to let her go again, but she's having nightmares, barely eating, not opening up…'

'I know what you mean. She's just been so… cold. It's hard to explain. It's like, well-'

'It's like she appreciates being home but she doesn't see _us _as home anymore.'

'Exactly,' Harry said gratefully. 'I don't know if it's trust issues or resentment or if she's just coming to terms with whatever happened, but I just think Hogwarts would be too much for at the moment, but at the same time I…'

'You don't want to take that away from her,' her mother concluded, before putting her head in her hands.

_Then don't, Lily thought in horror. Don't take it away from me._

'Then there's the other part of me that's thinking, maybe if we can't help her – Hogwarts can? It helped me.'

That was where Lily's theory of Hogwarts being a solution had started – her dads raving. In Lily's mind, there were three palpable 'worlds' for her. This world – her home - was too reminiscent of the old Lily. The other world she had experienced was to blame for the current Lily. The world of Hogwarts could form a new Lily, right? One that she was proud of? She felt that going to Hogwarts would allow her to bury the current Lily and everything that had happened to her.

Whether she truly believed it or not, it had been the pebble of hope in the destructive path that Lily's life had taken a stroll down. She _needed _to go.

For years, hope had been all she'd had left.

'I've been thinking along the same lines. I mean, the first time she genuinely smiled was when she got her wand; it might do her some good.' There was some shuffling as Lily heard the kettle going off. 'She's our _daughter_, Harry. Do you remember when I told you that I was pregnant again? We were by the tree in the garden and - I just love her so much. I thought – stupid, really – that once we got her back, everything would be complete again. That the tears at night would stop coming. That the nightmares would fade. That the worry would be lifted. That-'

'We'd have our ten year old firecracker home. I know. I'm just glad that the press passed off the murmurs about her return as rumours. They're the last thing we need.'

Lily's heart pounded with guilt, only just realising the extent of the sheer anguish she had inflicted on her family and resolved, there and then, that she would make up for it. If having their ten year old firecracker home would appease them, then Lily would dig up her grave: no matter how much it haunted her to do so.

'Well I'm already running late for work. Let's think about it today and discuss it tonight. If we're still at a loss then I can floo McGonagall and see what she has to say about it, so make sure there's enough dinner to feed one more.'

Upon making this decision, it occurred to Lily that she would be killing two birds with one stone. It seemed as though she would be taken to Platform 9 and ¾ the following morning only if her parents deemed her mentally bloody stable enough, or in other words, _happy _enough. She could do that. Well, she could pretend, at least.

**'**Tell Lily I said bye – I've already gone in to kiss her good morning, and I don't want to wake her up. It's lucky that we both have quite influential positions at work, isn't it, to assure that we could take alternating weeks off work?'

Once her mum had left, Harry made to leave the kitchen, causing Lily to have to reveal herself before she was found. She pulled the open and feigned a yawn. 'Good morning. Please could you make me some hot chocolate?'

Lily cursed herself for asking for it. She had eaten nought but scraps for four years, and now that she had the opportunity to eat as much as she wanted, the thought made her feel simultaneously sick and seduced.

'Uh, yeah – of course.' Harry seemed confused, but fumbled to carry out the task quickly nonetheless. 'Lucky the kettles just boiled… marshmallows?'

'Oh, yes please!' She smiled, although the mention made her stomach curl. 'How's work been recently?'

Her resolve was working fairly well. Her dad was grinning in bewildered relief, and seemed to be taking advantage of her good mood. Lily might not be convinced about love, but she was aware of hatred. She felt that she was manipulating her father and hated herself for it, but he seemed to appreciate it.

'Dad?'

'Yes Lily?'

'Would I be able to repaint my bedroom? It's just, it's been pink since I was born and I think, almost fifteen years later, it needs a bit of a freshen-up.'

Harry looked surprised at the request for a moment. 'Uh, sure. Do you have a particular colour in mind?'

'White, please.'

Lily felt determined to build herself up again, to her, white symbolised a blank canvas; a new page. To her father she knew it symbolised a lack of personality, but he didn't mention it. But lily decided that she would decorate it as she rebuilt herself.

'Well, let's go out and buy some white paint then,' he said, not pushing it. 'Do you want to go the full whammy and decorations and whatever else as well?'

'No thanks.' Lily decided that she would gradually rebuild it as she gradually rebuilt herself; adding decorations and pictures to show who she was. The new her.

With that being said, she chose the shade – who knew there was over 150 different whites? – and her dad went out and bought it. She joked about his lack of strength as her furniture was levitated away, and accepted his suggestion to paint without magic, thankful for a lunch break.

As she nibbled at her sandwich it occurred to her that she was enjoying the semi-freedom that came with pretence; it allowed a part of her to almost believe that she actually was this laughing girl who squirmed from her father's reach after cheekily streaking his nose white. Yet that being said, it was parting her. Tearing her up inside.

It was like she was drowning within herself and others were passing her floats to help her resurface but all it was really doing was making more obstacles for her to struggle past.

Lorcan, one of the old Lily's best friends, came to pay another visit and her smile faltered momentarily when she noticed that Lysander wasn't with him, again. But she pinned it back on, offered him her crusts, requested reinforcements - covering bright pink with 'fur white' was proving hard work – and took advantage of the opportunity.

'So Lorcan, what house did you end up in at Hogwarts? I can't wait to go – just thinking about it makes me feel so excited.' Lily wondered if she'd laid it on too thick, but the drowning part of her was growing desperate for oxygen. She'd sink entirely if she lost hope, so she threw in a bit more. 'I was absolutely devastated when I realised that my first year had passed by, then my second, then my third. I don't know what I would have done if I had been denied my fourth as well.'

She felt the heaviness of her father's eyes on her back.

'Well, I'm in Hufflepuff. You know, hardworking and all. Like my dad.'

'Keeping up the tradition,' Harry smiled. 'Where do you want to go, Lily? Gryffindor with your brothers?'

Thinking about it, being under the constant, watchful eye of all those Weasley's didn't sound appealing. Having to smile all the time – it would be horrific. Yet it would prove that she was brave and strong and that she could do this, right? 'I guess. So where'd everyone else go?'

'I don't know where you're updated to. I'll just go through us all - adoptees included. Teddy was in my House but he's been free for a year now, and Victoire was in Gryffindor but she's just graduated. James, Fred, Roxanne, Dominique and Louis are all going into their seventh year now, and they're all in Gryffindor, apart from Roxanne who got put in Ravenclaw. Then in sixth year there's gonna be Rose and Albus, and they're both in Gryffindor, of course. My brother's in fifth year and he's in Slytherin – the poor sod.'

Lily's chest constricted at the mention of Lysander. She had asked her dad why he hadn't visited, and he had said how Lysander didn't come round after Lily had been taken, and everyone figured it was because he missed his best friend too much and hadn't pushed it. However, eventually he and Rolf had slowly drifted from the family, apparently, although Lorcan had made a point of attending the fortnightly Burrow catch-up meals.

She had mostly asked to see if they _knew. _She had deduced that mostly likely Lysander did, but Lorcan and everybody else certainly did not.

'Nothing wrong with Slytherin! I almost got put there!' Harry laughed jestingly. 'Okay, there is a _lot _wrong with Slytherin.'

'Then in fourth year it's Hugo – and you as well now, I suppose – and he got put in Ravenclaw!'

'Came as a shock to us all, that one did. Before that we'd all presumed that Rose was like their mum and Hugo was like their dad,' Harry admitted. 'Ron blames Hermione.'

'Then there's Molly and I – we're both in third year Hufflepuff, and Lucy's starting Hogwarts this time round, so who knows where she'll end up? My bet's Ravenclaw.'

'I feel so old,' Harry brooded. 'It'll be strange to have none of you kiddos around at the meals.'

'You'll have us back at October half term,' Lorcan pointed out. 'I am glad that they adopted the Muggle secondary school idea of having more breaks. Besides, if your sister-in-laws have their matchmaking ways then you'll have little Veela-Metamorphmagus hybrids running around soon enough.'

'O-O'

It was around tea time when Ginny arrived home, leading the Headmistress of Hogwarts into their home. Feeling that they had put it off for too long, the Professor had agreed to come and meet Lily for herself to decide what she thought would be best to do about the schooling situation.

Peals of laughter floated lightly down the stairs as they stepped away from the fireplace, and Ginny followed it curiously, leading McGonagall up the stairs.

The sight she was met with was a stark contrast from the past two months. Her husband was levitating Lily's bed – which now had white sheets on – into her freshly painted bedroom. Lily and Lorcan were covered in paint and sweat and smiles and were perched on the frame as it swam through the air.

'Hi, mum!' Lily greeted.

'Hi, Mrs Potter!' Lorcan called, and turned around. 'Oh – uh, hi Professor McGonagall.'

'We painted my room, mum – without magic. Then we left it to dry and made tea and now we're putting the furniture back.'

'We painted her room,' Harry repeated. 'Nice to see you, Minerva. Are you staying for tea?'

'Oh is it tea time?' Lorcan asked, frazzled. 'I need to go then, come on Lily.'

As the two raced down the stairs to the floo powder, Ginny just watched them pass.

'This isn't exactly what you described, Ginevra,' McGonagall replied, her voice light and praising.

'What happened?' Ginny demanded. 'If I'd have known having Lorcan round for the afternoon would have been effective, then I'd have posted an adoption certificate through Rolf's door long ago!'

'It wasn't even that,' Harry replied. 'As soon as she woke up this morning she wanted a hot chocolate with marshmallows – her old favourite. And from then on she was, well - she was our little girl again.'

'You should have Owled me,' Ginny admonished, but she ran and hugged her husband in joy.

'I just hope she stays like it – I saw flickers…'

'I'm sorry to interrupt and I'm aware that I've only spent all of a minute with the child, but from what I've seen I do think that the company and pace of Hogwarts would be beneficial for her.'

'I agree,' Harry said, thinking back to the youth's conversation about Hogwarts earlier that day.

'Only,' Ginny began. 'I think she needs someone to watch over her. Also, she'll be three years behind in her studies.'

'Well, you know the Britain isn't like other school systems in that a student cannot be held back a year. Besides, even if I was to make an exception, I suppose that she would hate being put with the first years almost as much as she would hate not being allowed to return to the school.'

'I was thinking about that earlier, actually.' Harry turned to McGonagall. 'Lily was asking about Hogwarts from her first week back so we let her recover for two weeks before calling in Hermione. She's taken the last six weeks off of work to try and catch her up a bit, and apparently they've gone over the curriculum in detail of everything that the third years will have done, but as she's underage she hasn't actually been able to perform any magic. I was thinking that we ask James to tutor her, just a couple of times a week. That way he'll be keeping an eye on her as well as helping her catch up.'

'That's a great idea,' Ginny smiled. 'I know he'd love to do it.'

McGonagall raised her eyebrow slightly at that, thinking of the prankster, but the couple didn't see. There was a clatter of ruckus downstairs, and Ginny groaned. 'What do I keep telling them about using the floo one person at a time?'

'But Dom and Lou do it all the time!' Harry mimicked their usual response, chuckling.

Ginny turned to McGonagall to explain. 'It's been hard for them to see their sister so _depressed, _so they've been at their cousins' more than ever this summer. Albus spends all his time with Rose, and you know James; attached at the hip with-'

'Weasley,' McGonagall finished. 'Fred, that is.'

'All of the kids spend the last night of summer – the night before school discounted – camping out on Shell cottage. I think it was a tradition started by Teddy when he went off to Hogwarts, leaving poor Vic behind for the first time in their lives. At first it was just the two of them who would go after a final meal at the Burrow, but then the others caught on and it's been a rite of passage type thing, I think – Lucy wasn't happy last year when she was the only one 'not old enough' to go. Lily didn't want to this year…' Harry mused. 'Anyway, I guess the boys got hungry.'

'I think,' McGonagall chuckled. 'That they'd be rather horrified to find their very last night of summer disrupted with the presence of their head teacher. It's settled, I take it, that Lily will be boarding the Hogwarts express tomorrow?'

Harry and Ginny looked at each other before confirming, feeling as though they had just made a big gamble with something that was too precious to do so.

Harry saw McGonagall out the front door as Ginny headed to the kitchen.

'What have I told you two about flooing together?' He could hear her voice. 'Well we're not Bill and Fleur, are we?'

'I'll say,' James muttered.

'Don't cheek your mum, James,' Harry said as he wandered into the kitchen to serve up the dinner.

'How's Lily?'

'Why don't you two go and ask her yourself? She's in the living room, I think.'

'Okay…?' Albus replied. 'Smells good, by the way.'

'Why thank you very much!' Lily giggled from the doorway. 'Did you two have a good time? I'm kicking myself for not going now.'

'Yeah it was really good,' Albus slowly replied. 'Apart from when Lucy started crying. Something about missing her mum and dad.'

'Who could miss Uncle Percy?' James muttered.

Before his mum could speak, Lily spoke up. 'Well, I ate about half of the tea whilst cooking it and I'm feeling a bit tired. I was thinking that I could go and get an early night, ready for Hogwarts tomorrow, if that's okay?'

Ginny nodded, and Lily was glad that her mother had stopped trying to force her to eat. 'Good night, sweetie, is your trunk packed?'

Lily nodded, excitedly taking this as the confirmation that she would indeed be on her way to Hogwarts the next day. Biding her bemused brother's goodnight, Lily felt as if her previous words were the only truth that she had told all day; she truly was exhausted, as she had soon found out that being happy was easier acted than done.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter: They're back at Hogwarts and we meet some of the other characters. From James' point of view meaning that it will be a lot less angsty, and more humourous.

Please drop me a review to let me know what you think so far!


	3. The Welcoming Feast

Staring

Chapter three - the Welcoming Feast

James Sirius Potter POV

'Right good – Potter's here. Don't hex me or anything for saying this mate, but am I right in guessing that after your little exit from the end of term feast that your sister's been found? It's just because the papers didn't really mention it and you know how they're all over your guys' family.' Cory Jenson motioned to Fred, Louis and James.

'Yeah,' James said. He figured that rumours were going to be spread as soon as she was sorted, and would prefer his dorm mates to know the truth. 'But mum and dad encouraged it to be dismissed as a rumour because the last thing they felt she needed loads of attention. They even suggested that I make the first Hogsmeade weekend for after half term, so that they can sort of ease them into it and prepare her for it once she's used to it all again. I mean, they even had Ollivander come over to our house, so I guess it's for the best really.'

'What happened?'

'Don't be a prick, mate,' Wayne Goldsmith, their fifth and last dorm mate, clapped him on the shoulder.

'She's up there next to Hagrid – she couldn't exactly walk in with the firsties, but she couldn't sit at a house table either. Pretty clever, actually. You can't notice her next to him.'

'Skinny little thing, isn't she?' Cory mused.

'Well I'm fairly sure you'd lose a few pounds during four years of captivity as well,' James replied dryly.

'Pretty, though,' Wayne noted. If it had been Cory that had said that, James would not have been happy, but he knew that with Wayne it was only an observation.

'It's all in the gene pool,' James replied.

'Yeah – they used up all the bad ones on you and Al, leaving Lily the good ones,' Fred retorted. 'Anyway, how's my cous' doing?'

'Better,' James replied meaningfully. 'I came home last night and she was acting weird. Well not _weird –_ normal. As in, pre-kidnap -which was weird. Albus took her into his compartment on the train, with Rose and Scorpius. After that there was some debate about whether or not she'd be getting in the boats, but Lily climbed into the carriage herself and that was that, I guess. Anyway, Rose reminded Hugo to get in it with her so that she could meet some of his friends, but Lorcan and Molly jumped in before anyone else had the chance to, so I don't think she's met anyone yet.'

'Good job,' Louis said – trying to diffuse the worried tension emanating from his cousin. 'Wouldn't want her to get too cosy with the Ravenclaws before she's even been sorted.'

'Anything's better than Hufflepuff,' Fred snorted, referring to the house of Lorcan and Molly.

'Well not anything,' Cory replied, nodding towards the Slytherin table and the boys all replied mutters of hearty agreement.

Silence was then ordered as a trickle of frightened first years entered through the side door. One by one they stepped up, and when Lucy joined her them at the Gryffindor table, James handed 5 sickles to Louis in appreciated surprise. When the 'Linda Young' took her seat, there was a lot of muttering and hissing and shuffling at the Gryffindor table, as James and Fred made everyone move along to make room for Lily.

The rest of the school took this as indication to launch into summer tales again, and the babble of noise began to rise, but McGonagall immediately called for order.

'I do not believe that the sorting is over,' She said calmly, and people looked around curiously, searching for a particularly short first year of whom they had not been able to see in queue.

The Deputy Head teacher, Professor Longbottom, called out the final name on his list. 'Potter, Lily.'

The hall was silent for a second as they all looked at one another in surprise, before craning their necks in search for the girl. It was broken by a 'Look – by Hagrid!' and the hall suddenly erupted into an explosion of hisses, murmurs and whispers. The majority of the students in the room were gasping and standing up for a better view; passing along whatever gossip they had heard of her disappearance and speculations about her reappearance, as the young luminary they had heard about in the newspapers stepped warily down from her seat.

James was angry and worried that they might be scaring his sister, and when he heard a 'I heard she ran away from home!' he levitated his fork to jab the offender in the hand, all too lightly.

The hall fell into a palpable hush as she climbed onto the stool; taking a deep breath in as the hat was place over her head which, although she was small, fit rather better than it did for the majority of the eleven year olds.

The first thing he noted was that it was taking quite a while. The second thing he noted, was that it was not the word 'Gryffindor' that came from the Sorting Hats tear. The third thing he noted was that this year was to be the first time in recent history that none of their family would be exchanging money after a family member had been sorted, because it hadn't occurred them that, Lily may end up in Slytherin.

His mind raced through a variety of thoughts from, 'it's made a mistake' to 'she never seemed particularly evil to me' to 'how the hell is she going to get on in Slytherin?' as he listened to her new shoes ringing loud and clear with each step she took towards her newly designated House table. Or perhaps it just seemed that way, with nobody else in the hall speaking, even though the food had arrived. Their eyes all rested heavily on her hunched back as she slipped onto a lone bench at the very end of the snakes table.

'You may begin eating now,' Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the silence like a knife.

It broke James' trance and his eyes sought Albus'. They met in confusement across the table as the hall began to buzz feverently once again: everyone discussing how Harry Potter's daughter had landed herself in Slytherin.

Heck, James thought, even the snakes themselves looked confused!

He felt a nudge from Louis, who nodded towards Wayne.

'What?' James asked, giving up trying to meet Lily's eyes, as it was clear they were dead set on her plate.

'So, uh, where were you on the train?' Wayne repeated, trying to change the subject. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, as he loaded some mashed potato onto his plate.

'You didn't tell them?' James addressed his two cousins and dorm mates, Fred and Louis, trying not to show them what he thought about it, or to dwell on what had just happened. He'd save that for later.

'Oh, we told them,' Fred said.

Louis smirked, 'They just didn't believe us.'

'The joke's not even funny anymore,' Cory rolled his eyes obnoxiously, which annoyed James a bit. Cory was decent most of the time, but he was selfish too, and every now and then that would really piss the Weasley's off.

Wayne agreed. 'You've been carrying it on too long'

'Oh so I suppose carrying this Head Boy malarkey on for the rest of the year's going to get _really _old then isn't it?' James pulled out his shiny spanking new badge from the depths of his robe pockets and pinned it to his collar, satisfied at the widening eyes of the nearby students.

'They weren't kidding?' Cory catechized. 'Maybe he transfigured it?'

'Who did you bribe, Potter?' Wayne demanded jestingly.

'Trust me,' He grinned, still unable to get his sisters fate out of his head. 'I was more shocked than you guys.'

'But- no fair! You weren't even a prefect!' Cory exclaimed jealously, for he was the Gryffindor prefect.

'We've been trying not to dwell on it too much," Fred said easily. 'He's already cramping our style. Besides, I cannot believe it's our last first day here.'

James had always admired his best friend's ability to subject change smoothly. Unfortunately, their mothers had caught on when they were six. He grinned, 'Big bad seventh years.'

'Big bad head boy,' Wayne replied, not getting the hint. 'I did wonder - when you said that your parents wanted you to organise the Hogsmeade for later. Well done, I guess. Although I'm still trying to figure out who you bribed,' He jested.

'It'll be a lot of work on your plate,' Cory said. "You won't be able to slack off like usual."

'What are you insinuating, Jenson?' James asked. Sure, he was generally easy going but he sometimes mused that he might just have inherited a bit of a temper from his mother's side.

Either way, James did not want Cory to be under the impression that he was going to start taking any of his shit. He was bloody well fed up with the bloke! 'Because it was me who was picked over any other guy in our year - I'm going to try my damned best with the role.'

Cory held his hands up, 'I was just saying.'

Like hell he was. James decided to let it go and dug into his meal, and his friends followed him, going about their idle chatter of stories from the summer.

Just as he finished his third pudding, he spoke up. 'Still, work commitments aside, there are some bonuses to the job.'

'Would a certain head girl be that bonus?'" Louis said suggestively.

Louis was kind of like that. He had been the only child from their family to go to Beauxbatons, but ended up not liking it so much. As he was the only 'famous Weasley' in the school, and he wasn't even too sure why he was famous! The novelty of being in a class with a Weasley hadn't worn off for the Beauxbatonians as it had for those in Hogwarts, where there was someone from the family in pretty much every year. Adding to his oddities were the facts that he also happened to be part- Veela and a British guy, with 'un tres sexy aczent'. This went two ways, the kids were either intimidated by him, or fawned all over him; neither a good starting point for friend-making. At least, that was Louis excuse. James sometimes teased Louis with a 'personally I believe that you just missed me too much to stand the distance,' because after taking his OWLs Louis had packed his trunk 'and ran back into James open arms' at Hogwarts, ready to begin NEWTs.

Basically, Louis was still new meat and any girl that denied crushing on him was lying. Apart from Dom. And Rose and Molly and Lucy and, well, you get the picture.

And Louis loved it.

'A lot of lonely hours ahead together…' he continued.

He was spot on in this instance, though. James had fancied the newly designated Head Girl for the best part of seven years. She's hot, okay?! He thought it was quite the shame that she didn't like him in the same way. Rather, she hated his guts. For no apparent reason too, in James' unbiased opinion. He figured that he was a good looking enough guy.

'Or the head dorm?' Fred suggested wistfully. 'I've heard about that.'

'Try a combination of both,' James grinned.

'Why, who's the Head Girl?' Wayne asked.

'Don't get him started,' Groaned Fred. At that moment Dominique walked swiftly up to steal their bowl of chocolate pudding. 'He spent like a week in summer gushing over how he'd get so much more chances this year.'

'Let me guess the topic,' Dominique grinned as she scanned the table for anymore goodies unavailable where she was sat: further down the table where she sat with her two best friends, Danielle Garcia and Eliza Wood, as the latter refused to sit within staring distance of James. 'The one girl our dear Jamie here would be excited about becoming Head Boy for? Sharing a dorm with her?'

'Anyone, as long as they had big tits?' Cory guessed.

'True,' Dominique deadpanned, before turning away, calling over her shoulder: 'Okay, which girl would James even be excited about wandering around patrols until midnight for?'

'Eliza Wood got the badge then, huh' Wayne stated, rather than asked.

Dominique was pretty cool with the tension when it came to what James would call 'wooing your best friend' and what Eliza would call 'antagnoisation by your cousin.' She generally kept a middle ground and could see both sides of the story, only stepping in when she thought one of them was taking it too far.

'Think of all the opportunities sharing a room with the girl you like would have?' Fred smiled.

Trust me mate, James thought, I am.

"Not to mention Eliza's banging body," Cory said.

I've thought about that too – not to worry, James thought to himself, wait a minute…

'How would you know about Eliza's banging body?' James raised his eyebrows.

'You don't expect us to watch her to play Quidditch in that tight uniform and not notice? Pretty sure you have- I wouldn't want to fly under your broom with the amount of drool dripping down.'

James scowled.

'Chill,' Louis barked out a laugh. 'We all know Eliza is your girl; out of bounds. Anyway, I vote that we turn it into a bachelor pad and host parties every weekend.'

'I'm trying to decide which would take the least time: for Eliza to finally fulfil her dreams of viciously murder James, or for her to have an unfortunate heart attack and die before she got the chance,' Fred pondered. 'What's the room like?

'I haven't seen it yet,' James said. 'It said in my letter that I'm to meet Eliza and Neville after tea ends- it's the Prefects jobs to show the firsties to their dorms.'

Cory groaned loudly. 'It's so much harder than it looks,' he replied in response to the curious looks. James had to agree with him, after the strenuous process of overseeing the kids into the boats.

'So I heard Eliza's quit Quidditch this year,' Wayne said conversationally.

James frowned deeply. She was their best chaser and she had to know it - what was she thinking? The team needed her!

'Just as James' got captain too,' Louis noted.

'Well, maybe that's why,' Fred jested.

'I'm going,' James stated, as Fred had just voiced his fears. He knew they had, uh, _banter - but_ surely the girl didn't hate him _that_ much? Hell if James even knew why she disliked him in the first place!

'Nice try,' Fred said. 'I think he's forgotten, Louis.'

'Or he's just trying to get out of it,' Louis mused. 'I don't see why he would though. It'll be pretty good for him in the end.'

'Forgotten what?' James turned back to his cousins slowly.

'Beginning of summer, when we stole some of my dad's Firewhisky - and got pissed? Louis was going on about how we both needed sex to lighten us up.'

'Damn right,' Louis mumbled. James could feel the blood drain from his face as he realised where this was leading. Surely they didn't expect him to…? Seeing James' expression, Louis jokingly pointed out that, 'Uncle Charlie even agreed!' Although they all knew that their favourite uncle had been kidding.

'Is it coming back to you?' Fred smirked.

'I wasn't being serio-'

'Serious to do a Wizarding bet, finalised with magic,' Fred retorted. 'Do you remember the terms of that bet, Jamie?'

"You're kidding," he groaned. They couldn't be serious.

"When have you ever known me to kid?" Fred asked innocently.

"When have we ever known you _not_ to kid, would be a better question," Wayne muttered.

Louis turned to their friends to explain as James put his head in his hands.

'Basically Fred had to get Beth – a Muggle villager - into bed by the end of summer. They decided to give each other the forfeits. James went first and, thinking he was all clever, told Fred that if he failed, then he would have to seduce, as in shag, Maya Bulstrode by the time we graduate at the end of this school year. Then it was Fred's turn. James was thinking he was all clever-'

'But he wasn't clever enough,' Fred interjected dramatically.

'Fred told James that if he succeeded, then James would have to seduce our lovely Eliza Wood by the end of this school year.'

Cory and Wayne looked at the family in amusement at their antics, shaking their heads.

'And as of last week,' Fred smiled. 'I fulfilled my part of the dare. Now, he literally has to seduce Eliza. The spell assures it.'

'So what - like rape?' Wayne asked disapprovingly.

'No of course not,' Fred replied. 'I don't really get it but there's nothing dodgy about it. 'S usually used to make kids do homework or whatever. My dad used to help us out with it when we'd play Truth or Dare.'

"Seriously," James stood up grumbling as he left to meet the deputy head, not deeming them nice enough to warrant a goodbye. "Of all the dares I'm given, they give me something that I've been trying – and failing – to do for the past 1/3 of my life."

Yet thinking about his position as Head Boy made him smile. Contrary to popular belief, it did actually mean a lot to him. Were the words 'Head Boy of Hogwarts' on his father's chocolate frog card?

No, James didn't think so.

Which is why he was five minutes early in meeting uncle Neville.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_

_This chapter was setting up quite a few storylines, and it was originally linked in with the next one where we meet Eliza, but as together they're over 7000 words, I decided to split them up. _

_I have a timetable of posting a new chapter once a week, but if you guys want me to then I could post the next one up earlier as I'm quite excited about it. _

_Please drop me a review to let me know what you're thinking! _

_~ Racketeer_

_P.S. Still looking for a beta :)_


	4. The Head Dormitories

Chapter 4 – The Head Dormitories.

Eliza looked up as she rounded the corner near to where she was to meet professor Longbottom and – Potter.

'_Lucky!' _Danielle squealed wistfully in her ear, and Eliza winced. As much as she loved them she suddenly felt like a third year; with her friends escorting her around the castle, and wanted them to skedaddle before Potter noticed them.

'How on _earth_ did that tosser manage to get head boy?' She inquired. 'Is McGonagall going senile?'

'She's like what only, uh- 100 years old?'

'You are _so _lucky,' Danielle repeated, as though Eliza hadn't heard her. 'You get to share a room with _James Potter.'_

'It better bloody not be _a_ room – as in, singular. Or else I'll be sleeping on the couch back in the Common Room. In fact, no – he will.'

'You can swap with me,' Danielle giggled.

Both Dom and Eliza rolled their eyes.

Eliza felt sorry for the lass, sometimes. When you have a crush, all you want to do is gush about him to your best friends. But really, Danielle didn't help herself by picking a guy who one was related to, with the other having a potent dislike for him. It had been worse, Eliza supposed, when it had been Dominique's twin that Danielle had fawned all over in sixth year

'What's your deal anyway, Liz?' Dominique spoke up, confused. 'You knew that he had the badge since he and I both wrote to you over summer. Then you had the prefects meeting on the coach and-'

'- but this is a _dorm _with the bloke that we're talking about!'

'You need to try being civil to him,' Dominique pushed. 'He's a really great guy-'

'He's stuck up his own arse,' Eliza argued.

'He can be,' Dominique allowed. 'But not usually. That's only one side to him.'

'Well the only other sides I've seen are the attention seeking, pig-headed prankster."

'He's only like that around you,' Dominique said exasperatedly. 'He's usually funny and – and good to talk to!'

'He fawns off his father's fame,' Eliza said harshly. Well, it was true!

'That's a bit far,' Dominique said firmly, knowing that the whole 'in his father's shadow' thing was actually a really touchy topic with James.

'Fine, Dom,' Eliza said, to get her off her case as she heard the click footsteps approaching the corridor from the other side. 'I promise I won't go picking a fight with your beloved cousin, okay?'

Dominique nodded, knowing this was the best she was going to get. 'See you tomorrow at breakfast.'

'If I haven't been annoyed to death first,' She muttered lowly under her breath before running, no - hurrying (Head Girl's shouldn't run in corridors) down the steps to Potters' side just as the Head of Gryffindor turned the opposite corner.

'Sorry I'm a few minutes late,' he said, looking flustered. 'I got caught up by a couple of fourth years who wanted to get the year started with a, uh, bang.'

'What were they doing?' Potter asked with interest.

Professor Longbottom opened his mouth, but then shut it again. 'Wouldn't want to be giving you any bad ideas now, would I?'

'Really Uncle Neville,' He smirked annoyingly. 'When are any of my ideas bad?'

Uncle Neville? Eliza rolled her eyes.

'It's Professor Longbottom in school,' He insisted. 'I tell you every year. Eliza - if you'll just follow me. Anyway, how are your mum and dad doing, James?'

So, Potter was all buddy-buddy with the professors. It figured; she knew that his grades hadn't been a product of hard work and dedication.

'They're fine,' James replied hesitantly. 'Dad hasn't taken any missions since, well – Lily's return. Nice to have mum not worrying for no reason.'

'She's never worried for nothing, James,' Professor Longbottom said quietly.

The delicately serious tone distracted Eliza from her sulking momentarily. She had heard from Dominique stories about her and Lily Potter when they were younger, and Eliza hadn't really liked to think about it long enough to connect the interruption it would have caused her brothers. You see, when Eliza opened her heart, she loved so much that it was painful. Which was saying a lot, because if there was anything Eliza knew the feel of – it was pain.

So she never let herself dwell on emotional things, which is why it had stumped her slightly at the prospect of Potter not having the perfect celebrity lifestyle. It made her feel uncomfortable, and she hated that.

Eliza decided to change the subject to distract from the unwelcome thought and the now-awkward silence. 'So whereabouts are we headed?'

'The Head's dormitory,' Professor Longbottom explained, thankful to have something to grasp onto. 'It isn't particularly close to any one of the four common rooms, because the head students are picked from any house. It's just chance that this year you're both Gryffindor's. So you're situated in the middle; you're neutral. You're at the top, overlooking the lake, Quidditch Pitch and Hogsmeade. It's really a nice room, actually.'

Eliza listened intently to their professor as he went on to explain the formalities: 'You're given this room for peace, space to work, a reward … it's a luxury, treat it with respect… can be taken away…'

Eliza glanced over at Potter and noticed that his eyes seemed glassy. Her eyes narrowed; determined that he'd pull his weight. At that moment, Professor Longbottom came to a stop at the top of the swirling staircases, panting, before setting off again.

'I'll let you know what's required of you as it comes, but I'll give you a little starter here. So first off, with the information you gathered today on the train you two will need to have a meeting between yourselves and sort out rounds. It's tradition for one boy and one girl to be paired together in rounds, as there's less gossiping, and often a student in need would prefer to talk to someone of their own gender. Bear in mind which prefects have free periods the next morning when you're organising late night shifts, and stuff like that. When you've got this sorted, you'll need to hold a prefect meeting. I know you two will work it out.

'You have very well-behaved staircases, by the way,' He offered consolingly, and then motioned to the sole painting at the top of the stair cases, there was no corridor, no front step, just a painting hanging on the wall and stair cases which swivelled to line up with it.

'Let's carry on,' Longbottom said, turning to address the painting of a young woman in a light purple peasants dress; a red 'A' sewn to the chest. 'This is Ariel the Adulterer. Meet Eliza Wood, Head Girl, and James Potter – Head Boy.' He then turned to the two teenagers, grimacing: 'I'm required to say some technical stuff, I apologise in advance. It's your duty to guard the living quarters of our Head Students and allow entrance to nobody but them – unless they specify otherwise.' The painting nodded shyly, and Neville smiled. 'This is as far as I'm allowed to go. If you have any problems, then don't hesitate - you know where I am. Well, I will see you with your timetables tomorrow morning at breakfast. Goodnight.'

'Night,' they replied, as Longbottom made his way back down the stairs.

'James Potter?' the painting asked timidly, making Eliza jump. 'Is it true? Are you really back again?'

Eliza glanced towards Potter, even as he shook his head with furrowed brows, she wondered why on earth he had been there before.

'You don't remember me?' Ariel the Adulterer asked sorrowfully.

'Uh, no?' He replied, confused. 'Should I?'

'Oh… well no, I suppose not,' the painting replied, downcast. 'It's just - never mind, I shouldn't have expected.'

'Okaaay,' Potter said slowly. 'But-'

'Only, you were always so nice to me -and you haven't changed a bit you know.'

'From when?' Potter seemed genuinely confused.

'From the last time you were here,' she sniffled.

'Been here before to pull a prank?' Eliza asked dryly. It then crossed her mind that she would probably be exposed to lots of his exploits this year. It's not that she didn't find his and Fred's pranks _amusing, _it was just that she hated it when people wasted their education.

'I haven't, though? What are you-'

'The only difference is, I didn't think I'd ever see you without Lily again,' the portrait smiled to herself as if indulging in an inside joke. 'Oh Lily, always so very polite-'

'Lily?' Potter asked, confused. 'She should be in her common room by now. Why would she be with me?'

'Your sister?' Eliza questioned, and James nodded. She raised her eyebrows, turning back to the painting. 'So, when did you last see Potter and his sister?'

'His sister?' Ariel asked, perplexed. 'I didn't know – oh, never mind. Well, let me think… oh yes, I believe that the last time I saw the two of you was when… you were – well, erm … you were partaking in _adulterous_ activities on the couch.' Eliza's eyes widened in horror and she spun round to look at Potter, who was spluttering. 'You two did enjoy the privacy that my room offered.'

'What?!' He demanded. 'What on earth are you on about? Lily – wait, _what?_ – that's vile!'

'Oh. My. God,' Eliza was so shocked at the accusation. 'Tell me she's joking.'

'You must have the wrong people,' Potter said, appearing repulsed. 'Are you going to let us in, or…?'

'No, no. You're definitely him! And Lily Evans-'

Something seemed to click into place in Potters' mind, and he stopped in his tracks.

'I'm James Potter the second,' he said softly.

Eliza suddenly understood. She looked at him to gauge his reaction over being mistaken for his late Grandfather.

'Oh, right, sorry. Well, that makes sense,' Arielle said in embarrassment. 'I've never forgotten the pair of them, though. I remember the evening the two of them got together, but I expect you don't want to hear all about that-'

'Wait-' Potter said loudly. 'Sorry – but I'd, er, love to hear all about that. Um, as many stories as you remember about them. Maybe leaving out the sex.' He chuckled, before glancing at Eliza. 'Just – some other time.'

'I understand,' she smiled softly. 'So how are they these days?'

Potter shifted awkwardly. 'They're, uh not doing so well, actually.'

'How so?'

'Well as a matter of fact they died,' he replied awkwardly. 'When they were twenty-one.'

The painting gasped, and charcoaled tears collected at her eyes.

'That young?' she asked the question that Eliza was thinking.

She hadn't known. It didn't really make much of a difference, she supposed, but it made the whole thing seem more – personal? Maybe it was that they weren't so much older than she was. Or perhaps it was because they hadn't yet had the chance to live.

'Yeah.'

'Sorry to ask, but I suppose you know Sirius – how is he? I was always so fond of him. He reminded me of myself a bit, well part of him anyway, you know, not the weeping portrayal of myself, but the origina- never mind. Did he settle down in the end? And the other two marauders – I forget their names-'

'They're all dead too,' Potter said shortly. 'Now could we please come in?'

The portrait's eyes widened, before nodding. She explained that as the doors hadn't been opened in some time she needed to work on the hinged, and Eliza took the chance to speak what had been on her mind.

'Potter, could I ask you something?' She asked trepidatiously.

'Where my roguishly good looks come from?'

Eliza remembered her promise to Dom and had to bite her tongue to keep it from lashing out at him. 'Who were the Marauders?'

'My granddad's best friends. They were like brothers and were insanely close all throughout their time at Hogwarts. The kind of friendship you search for your whole life, you know? Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin.'

There was really only one explanation. 'Voldemort?'

'Not directly, I don't think, but it's all the same really,' He said, before stepping into their dorm.

'Here you go,' Arial said anxiously, before swinging forward.

An expansive parlour that was about half the size of the Gryffindor Common Room, stretched out in front of them. However, that was as far as the similarities went; the Head Common room was very different indeed. It was rectangular, and each wall of the room homed different purposes.

On the wall of which they had just entered though also situated a small yet grand fireplace and mantelpiece, with a Gold bordered mirror just above it. Around the fire were various Scarlet, blue, green and gold armchairs and settees, and for this reason, it was the quarter of the room which looked most similar to your average common room.

It wasn't until you laid eyes on the next wall; the one on the right, which told you it was more than a common room, for there was a kitchenette, full of cauldrons and the like for cooking. The little kitchen was complete with a breakfast bar, which also sectioned it off. Along this wall was also a glass door in the corner, which led out to a terrace, which wrapped around the entire parlour, with little entrances jutting off into James' and Eliza's rooms, connecting them all.

The wall parallel to this, on your left as you walked in, was your typical small scale library, which was stacked with hordes of a rare collection of big, fat, leather-bound books; the shelves all clinging to the wall in a fashion which seemed like they were going to snap at any given moment and looked like they were held up by magic. Then again, Eliza reminded herself, they probably were. Underneath the books lay a long desk, complete with draws of extra parchment and quills.

She could feel Potters' heavy eyes on her as she laid eyes on the library. Her excitement grew as she speed-walked across the room and picked up the first book she could see: 'The Hobbit.' Her smile grew wide as she realised that Muggle books had been included, and upon further inspection, she noticed that it was a fairly even spread of Wizarding and Muggle, Educational and Non-Educational, but all of which had seemed to be connected to either her or Potter. The majority of educational books were on the subjects that they were taking this year, and as well as her favourite Jane Austen books, she noticed some ones about Quidditch and a few Muggle sports. She heard James chuckle behind her and turned to glance at him.

The sight of her eyes; pooled in thrill with an itching desire, made James burst out laughing. Eliza joined in, knowing what a fool she must have looked like. Potter walked over to their library and began to scan the shelves also.

'I just hate that a bloody painting knew them all better than I ever did,' he said suddenly. 'Than their own son ever did.' Eliza opened her mouth to reply – not that she could think of anything suitable -but James continued, cheeks flushing at the thought of his sudden outburst. 'Anyway, this is brilliant, isn't it? No way…' he muttered incredulously as he picked up 'Rapunzel'.

'What is it?'

'You don't happen to have a preference for Hans-Christian Anderson… do you?'

Eliza's heart constricted as the sudden strong memory of her parents reading her those fairy tales washed over her, back before everything went wrong. But Potter didn't know about that. Nobody knew about that. 'Erm, not particularly, no. How do you even know who he is?'

'Don't laugh,' James ordered, which made Eliza raise her eyebrows in amused questioning anyway. 'But last summer, Fred was round at mine, and Teddy had popped round too-'

'Teddy, the one with blue hair who left a couple of years ago? Dom's cousin or something?'

'Yeah, that's him. He's not our cousin though – my dad's his godfather, but practically his dad.' Eliza nodded her understanding, so James carried on. 'It was Sunday, so Teddy was off work for once. We were bored and decided to go to Muggle-London for a day, and it was so funny and interesting to see how they lived. Anyway, we walked past this book store – Waterbones or something, and Teddy wanted to go and see if there was anything that Victoire would like.' James paused and realised that unlike most of his peers, Eliza wasn't a relative and would need some explanation. 'Well, she loves everything to do with books, and she and Teddy are best friends so he wanted to see if there was anything Muggle that she'd find interesting. So we saw this big book shop, so we found a big one and went in. We got to the children's section, and found a section titles 'Hans-Christian Anderson.' Fred said how with a name like that, the author was definitely pure-blood-'

'Is he as stupid as he looks?'

'Yes, yes he is. Anyway, the books had caught our attention and so we picked a couple up and started to read these Muggle 'fairy stories' and-'

'Fairy tales,' Eliza corrected, being half-blood she had always had one foot firmly in the Muggle world, with the other planted in the Wizarding one.

'Well we laughed our heads off at how stupid and far-fetched someone them were. Where did they get the idea that Witches had green skin from? That's a hag! And this one, for example, the idea that Rapunzel could have kept her hair so perfect without Sleakeazy's hair potion was just hilarious to us.' James chuckled at the memory and slid his book back into place. 'Eventually they chucked us out, which made Teddy get annoyed at us.'

Eliza turned away as she smothered a laugh; it would never do for Potter to know that she had found his antics funny – it would only encourage him. He grinned to himself, and walked to the door on the left hand-side door, yanking open.

It was a large slightly rectangular room, with the oak four poster queen sized bed in the middle of the left hand side wall, with a bedside table on either side. A door leading to their bathroom was on the opposite wall, and left of the door was a big oak wardrobe, fitting with the room's scheme. On the wall in between was a window with a desk underneath it, and right opposite was not only the aforementioned cabinet, but also a window with an indented window seat, and left of that was a door which led to a patio which seemed to circle the entire head common room. The wall along from the door that he had just come in at also held a vanity and mirror, above which was a broom stick holder, and a row of empty photo frames, which James couldn't help but think that it was pretty sweet of the House Elves.

James walked tiredly over to her trunk and opened it, deciding he'd just get his unpacking over and done with.

He pulled out his black robes with the Gryffindor crest emblazoned on, and hung them up, moving on to do his ties and shirts which were more neatly packed than he remembered having the time to do. Thinking about that little smile he had seen Eliza smother, James set to work.

He was bewildered at how even that could make his heart race. James pulled out a handful of the next thing on top. His underwear could go in the bottom draw, wait- no. Not his underwear. _Definitely _not his underwear. James held up the bra and inspected it. Could he have packed one of his mums or Lily's from the washing by mistake? How could he possibly mail that back? James delved back into the trunk – but no, there was plenty more of where this bra came from, accompanied by some knickers – including the odd lacy thong. He definitely didn't think that belonged to his mum, or his fourteen year old sister. James was inspecting the assaulting thong at arm's length, when realisation dawned on him. James paled and peered back into the trunk, and rummaged around warily for confirmation.

The next thing he found, as it was packed near the top, was a Quidditch robe. James turned it over, to where the shoulders would be. Along the top read the letters '**WOOD.' **James collected the underwear he had flung around the room, rushing to throw it all back into the trunk.

'I think this is my room you're infesting-' Eliza walked into the room and paused. 'What the fuck-'

'It's not what it looks like,' Potter tried.

'Yeah? Because it looks like is perverted!' She thundered. 'How dare you go through my personal stuff?'

'I thought it was mine!'

O'O yeah, I forgot that you wore bras! Who the fuck do you think you are?'

'I honestly-'

'This is a step too far, Potter! I was willing to give you a go, see how well we could work together for the sake of our positions. Yet at the first opportunity you get, you go and look through my bras! That's an invasion of my privacy! You're such a pig.'

'I thought it was my stuff. I would never-'

'Save your pathetic excuses,' she seethed. 'Just get the fuck out. Be lucky I'm not reporting you straight away to McGonagall. Do it again, or anything equally _you_ish, then be rest assured I will.'

'If you'd just listen-!' James started in frustration.

'Get the fuck out!' Eliza pointed her wand at him furiously, and with the utterance of a quick spell, James was thrown out of Eliza's room, with the door slamming behind him.

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading! I check my story charts every day, and when I saw that I had 500 views I got butterflies :D_

_I'm finishing up on the next few chapters, but I thought I'd let you decide who you'd like to see interaction between next: Rose, Albus and Scorpius, Lily and Lysander, or Teddy and Victoire._

_Also I was wondering if any of you guys had picked up on Eliza's occasional lapses into her past experiences – and what you think has happened._

_Please drop me a review to let me know your opinions – they make my day :) Constructive criticism welcomed!_

_~ Racketeer_


	5. First Day of Term

Chapter 5- First Day of Term

Lily released her wavy brunette locks from a clip with unsteady fingers, providing a shelter from curious eyes as she nibbled on a slice of toast.

Last night hadn't really gone as planned.

It had been evident to her that once she was at Hogwarts she would find herself again, be the centre of conversations again, be the source of her peers' laughter again. On the way to the station she decided that she wouldn't force anything, and instead would let it come naturally – for _surely_ that was the best way.

Yet… it just hadn't happened like that. She had sat with company in the carriages but had found her attention drawn like a magnet to the depth and mystery of the Dark Forest. Then she'd gone and gotten herself sorted into Slytherin. She suddenly recalled her father's words: '_Okay, there is a _lot_ wrong with Slytherin.'_

Ouch.

Bought to life were some depressingly accurate traits that she didn't even want to think about, amongst which was the basis that it was 'an ambitious job to recreate one's self'.

It was odd, Lily thought, how her whole life she'd wanted to be placed in Gryffindor; originally yearning to be as great as her family, and in more recent times for _proof _of her courage and strength. Yet the first thing she'd felt as the hat had announced her colours was a grim sense of satisfaction. At what? Lily was unsure: perhaps at her family, perhaps at herself.

As she perched on the sofa in the common room later on, musing at the decorative portraits scattered about the walls, it occurred to Lily that she just didn't really _want _to participate in the conversations ricocheting around her. She had been about to scold herself- as that sort of thinking was certainly not the way to go about finding herself, when she realised that perhaps… perhaps this was the first step? Albeit down a less welcome, more treacherous path than she had anticipated.

Being sorted into Slytherin had kind of bought home the fact that her media-given nickname of 'Potter's Golden Girl' was no longer true, not really. She had changed. For worse probably, but she had _survived_.

After that, feeling that she owed it to herself not to suppress it, Lily had escaped to her dorm room at a time that was most probably rudely early. The dorm was simultaneously similar and different to how her family had described it as being, but that was expected. The distinct Victorian feel reverberated off walls, yet it wasn't circular, and nor did burgundy and gold banners stream from the ceiling beams. Instead the colour theme was understandably emerald and silver, and the room itself was in the shape of a square with a bed on each wall - four as opposed to the five that her father had described, probably a result of the war of the past generation. Each four poster bed had a vanity on one side of it, a chest of drawers on the other and a trunk at the bottom.

Three of the beds looked well-loved and personalised with photographs and posters strewn around, yet the one on the far left had clearly recently been placed there, new and cold, which Lily found ironic. She was, however, pleased that a window seat was on the wall to the left of her bed, so she could look out of it at night. She loved the sky and always had; even before it had been stolen from her.

As the girls came Lily had half a mind to pretend to be asleep, but figured if she was going to be spending the next four years with them she might as well face their polite introductory questions now, even if it was with one or two word answers. Two of the girls introduced themselves – but Lily had forgotten their names almost immediately.

'It's so nice to meet you,' said the one with very curly, light brown hair which was pulled back a ponytail.

'How was your summer?' Asked the other one – who had a cropped blonde bob. Hannah, was it?

'I went to the manor in Spain again – absolutely glorious weather!'

'Has anyone ever told you our eyes are beautiful? Aren't they, Penny?'

Ah, thought Lily, Penny – that's the one.

'Oh yes, they match the throws!'

'Perhaps that's why she was sorted!?'

All Lily could think about was how _mundane_ the conversation was. Whereas once it would have lightly entertained her, now it just _bored _her. She hated to say it, but it did. She wasn't really listening to the conversation as it went on, but she did acknowledge the fact that they were blatantly steering away from the whole kidnapping topic, although they must have had a million questions.

'What's he like in person?'

'Who? Well, your father of course!'

'We know he had a rivalry with Slytherin and all, but we don't hold that against you.'

The third girl, apparently called Bethany Zabini, laughed mirthfully from the bed next to hers, shaking her head at the conversation. She had tanned skin and black hair, and gave the distinct impression of disinterest and being fed up.

'Ignore her,' Hannah said loudly. 'Zabini thinks she's better than everyone.'

'Not everyone,' the girl spoke up for the first time since entering the room, 'just you two.'

Hannah and Penny looked affronted, and Lily felt a pang of sorrow. They were the girls she had acted like to her parents, the girls she would have been, perhaps.

The girls she damn well should have been.

At that thought a feeling of utter despair and unfairness swept over and she ripped her curtains shut, stuffing her fist in her mouth so that she wouldn't scream.

'Talk about an Ice Queen or what.' A giggly voice was soon shushed by another.

Lily sank back into the bed which only last night she had been dreaming of as an idealised sanctuary.

The old, happy-go-lucky Lily's identity had been a 'firecracker.'

But this was now.

Lily Potter. Slytherin. Ice Queen.

'O-O'

'How's your new dorm?' Philippa asked, having finished devouring her banana.

'The dorm itself is lovely,' Eliza replied carefully, her cheeks flushing. 'But unfortunately it's tainted by a perverted git.'

'What did he do this time?' Dominique questioned.

'Why don't you go and ask _him?'_ she said venomously, stabbing her sausage murderously, pointing it towards where Potter was sitting further down the table with his brother, his best friend Scorpius, Louis, Fred and Rose. She had dreamed about being Head Girl for six years! She should be raving about how perfect it was, certainly not cringing at the first experience!

Dominique shrugged, grabbed a rasher of bacon, and took a bite out of it as she hurried up the hall to claim the seat opposite her cousin.

'So, what'd ya do?' She asked, dumping her bag in Louis' arms for him to hold.

'Good morning to you too,' Louis muttered, shoving the satchel on the floor.

'Nothing,' James spat.

'What did I miss?' Rose butt in.

'Obviously,' Dom replied sarcastically, ignoring Rose.

'Trouble in paradise?' Fred asked.

'You snored so loud that Eliza couldn't sleep all night?' Louis caught on, and Albus laughed.

'Don't be ridiculous.' Fred rolled his eyes. 'It's clear that Jamie kept farting and the smell wafted through to her dorm, almost choking her.'

'Okay, ew,' Rose breathed.

'Did you have to ask?' Scorpius muttered.

'Those problems are saved for marriage,' Louis retorted, 'he probably just used all the hot water so Eliza couldn't douche herself with it.'

'None of those,' James protested, 'I don't see why she's mad at me!'

'Well she-'

'Okay, I suppose I do, really,' he continued musingly.

'James-'

'But it wasn't on purpose!'

'Enlighten us,' Fred said.

'It might have _seemed_ bad.'

'If you'd just-'

'But I really didn't do anything wrong!'

'Spit it out, will you!?'

'Eliza… well, she _might_ have walked in on me rooting through her underwear.'

Albus promptly choked on his pumpkin juice, and Louis laughed out loud, but everyone else paused for a moment, staring incredulously at James, before it was broken by a low whistle from Fred. 'Well, that's _one _way to go about it, I suppose.'

'She, wait - you did what?!' Dominique was appalled. She wouldn't have believed it - but the words had come from James' own mouth!

'Eliza Wood?' Scorpius asked. 'As in the Head Girl?'

'Dude, even I think that's a bit sick,' Fred said.

'The Head Girl's panties?' Scorpius asked in wonder.

'What a lad!' Louis whooped, earning himself a slap to the shoulder from his sister chuckle of agreement from Scorpius, who smothered quickly upon meeting Rose's glare.

'Gross,' Albus muttered.

'Your brother has some balls,' Scorpius said wisely to his best mate.

'He does not,' Dominique exclaimed, 'nor does he have any common sense, manners or standards!'

'That's horrible of you!' Rose agreed. 'Very brave – but awful, really.'

'Not to mention rude!' Added Dominique, in full defensive mode. 'And just plain intrusive and _mean _of you!'

'Don't be such prudes.' Louis rolled his eyes.

'What would Aunt Ginny say, James?' Rose asked threateningly.

'It wasn't like _that_ though-'

'It better bloody not be,' Dominique snarled. She often tried to be as diplomatic as she could when it came to the _rocky _relationship between her best friend and cousin, until one of them was in the wrong. Then she let them know it.

'Because that's just creepy mate,' Fred decided.

'What was the point?' Albus asked.

'Hey Al, that's a stupid question. You can't blame a bloke for trying.' Louis shrugged, 'Getting started with his dar-'

James cut him off with a warning look. 'Do you seriously think I'd stoop to that? Just hear me out!' He exclaimed in exasperation. Once he had their attention, for James rarely raised his voice, he explained what had happened. When he had finished the was a pause, before all the boys and Rose burst out laughing, Dominique soon joining in, although she felt really sorry for her cousin.

She knew him well enough to understand that although he could be about as cocky as they come, he was not disrespectful. In fact she'd go as far as saying that he was pretty damn honourable, and knew how to treat girls - and beings in general - well. After all, it had been their Aunt Hermione who'd had Dobby's Law passed about House Elves. 'And Eliza went ape shit,' she summarised.

'You must have the worst luck ever.'

'How didn't you realise it was hers in the first place?'

'She must have packed her underwear near the top. It was the first girly item I came across,' James defended.

'You understand where Eliza's coming from though, right?' Dom asked, still giggling. 'You've been hitting on her for years, and then the first opportunity to look through her private stuff, you seemingly take it?'

'I know,' he groaned, before frowning stubbornly, 'but she should have heard me out.'

'What have you ever done to give her reason to listen to your excuses?' Rose pointed out. 'I'm just saying. I know she should probably have listened to you though, but if it were me, I doubt I would have.'

'I would never – you know?'

'Why don't you explain it to her, Dom?' Louis suggested as the bell rang and he passed her back her bag and they stood up. 'She'll listen to you, and then James will stop moping around.'

'I do not _mope._' Was the last thing Albus, Scorpius and Rose heard from their family as they made their own way to the first class of the term.

History of Magic, _great_.

It was one of the only classes Rose had with her cousin, and that meant Scorpius too.

Whilst Scorpius had immediately become best friends with Albus, he and Rose, although they ended up spending quite a bit of time together, had never really reached that level. The whole Lily situation had made Rose eager to spend more time with her cousins, whilst Albus had dealt with it in the opposite way.

'Wonder if this Professor Kane guy will be any better than Binns,' Albus wondered and Rose made them hurry up so they wouldn't set a bad impression.

'Couldn't be much worse.' Scorpius shrugged as they rounded the corner.

The trio entered the History of Magic classroom and looked around, surprised to find that displays had been stuck up on the walls and the furniture had been rearranged. There were three rows of tables, about six lengths deep. The tables set out so that three could fit on the row in the middle, and two could be seated on each of the outside rows.

On the whiteboard was written 'Professor Quinn', lest they forget, and the instruction that they could sit where the please so long as it was boy-girl. Rose paused before leading them four rows back and into the middle. Albus sank into the chair to her right, but Scorpius hesitated for a moment, which hurt Rose's feelings - not that she'd admit it - before placing his bag next to hers.

'Right class, settle down,' Professor Quinn's voice sounded above all others, and the fifth years did as they were asked almost immediately, wanting to test the water with the new professor. 'That's better. Professor Binns announced his resignation at the end of last term in the hopes of a peaceful afterlife. I am a specialist on the specific topic and I have taken a year out of my job to pass on my knowledge.

'As most of you will know, this year we celebrate the 20th anniversary of the end of the Second Wizarding War, and the ministry has deemed it so that enough time enough has passed for us to delve into it and pass on its deadly secrets, in order to spread understanding and prevent any future occurrences. Therefore this year each year group will be taught about it, and that is where I come in.'

'We've already learnt about the war,' pointed out a boy from Hufflepuff.

'I have been led to believe that this class has studied Goblin Rebellions, the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts in modern history- along with the First Wizarding War in minor detail. Is that correct?'

There was a murmur of agreement.

'Well, today we will be doing a recap on what you have learnt about the First Wizarding War. From then on, whereas previously you have studied the Death Eaters, you will now be studying the Order of the Phoenix, and topics as such. We'll delve into the mysteries of different battles; from the Battle of the Ministry to the Battle of Hogwarts. We'll find out what happened during the Golden Trio's year of disappearance and, of course, Mr Potter's life story, for to understand the War firstly we must unlock the secrets of the greatest hero - some say ever lived; Harry Potter. Does this interest you?'

Albus sat, wondering whether or not the man was a little crazy, as a few of his classmates turned to look at him. Sure, he knew his father had fought in the War like a soldier or something, but why on earth would the professor mention him like that? Was there another Harry Potter?

There was a stirring of excitement within the class, for the happenings of the war had always had an unmentionable sort of censorship over it. Albus had been about to turn to his cousin for reassurance, but a loud snort escaped from her; she just found the sincerity and transgression in his voice so funny.

The entire class, who were for the first time enraptured in a History of Magic lesson turned to look at her, and she had at least the decency to blush.

'Is there a problem, Miss...?'

'Weasley. Rose Weasley, sir.'

'Ah, of course. I ought to have recognised you by your hair.' The professor looked her over. 'I assume that snort was of disgust over the fact that I neglected as far to mention your parents by name?'

'No! Of course not!' She admonished. 'Why would anyone want to learn about mum and dad in class? '

The professor ignored her and turned to face the class. 'Can anybody tell me what relation the Weasley family bear to Harry Potter?"

'His wife used to be a Weasley, but then she married Harry Potter,' a girl stated knowledgably. So they had to be talking about his family, Albus thought. How strange.

'That is true. A point to Hufflepuff**.** However, that is not all. I'm sure you've all heard of Ron and Hermione Weasley.'

Rose and Albus shared an uncomfortable look, confused at the way he was going on about their parents, and how everyone else already knew so much about them?

'Harry Potter became fast friends with Ron and Hermione in his first year at Hogwarts.'

'That's not true,' Rose interjected. Albus stared at her; she obviously didn't like this man. He wasn't sure if he did either.

'Pardon?'

'My dad and Uncle Harry were best friends ever since the first train ride, but they didn't get along with my mum at all at first,' Rose replied.

'Pray tell, when do you presume the golden trio formed then, whilst on the run from Voldemort?'

'No,' Rose said defiantly narrowing her eyes, before going on to explain about the Troll on Halloween. There were snickers from the class. Albus would have grinned too - he had always liked that story - if only he wasn't so confused as to why it was being told. Albus recognised her tone of voice from when she wanted to prove a point. It seemed almost as though she wasn't too confused about the fact that their relatives were a topic in class, rather, she wanted to prove that she knew them better. What did Rose know that he didn't?

'Thank you, Miss Weasley, for sharing your expertise with us. I expect you to get all O's in this class. Anyway as I, the _teacher_, was saying,' Professor Quinn carried on, 'Harry Potter, for reasons we will learn, had only two friends that he loved whole-heartedly and trusted entirely-'

'And who does he think Neville was? Or- or Teddy's dad?' Rose hissed to him.

'Mr Ron Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, as she was known at the time. They became his sidekicks, so to say.'

'I'm sure your dad would _love _that.' Albus could hear Scorpius whispering to Rose, and almost smiled. It was odd, come to think of it, that Scorpius had never visited the Potter household. He pushed the thought from his mind, however, when he realise that the class had moved on.

'-so we're all caught up. Write a brief recap about the life of Lord Voldemort, you have ten minutes and we will then discuss.'

True to word, ten minutes later he collected in the paper and scanned through them, having told the students to discuss the subject whilst he did so. He praised them and picked one to read out.

'There was once a young, half-blood, orphan boy named tom riddle. He excelled above all others in the school and left Hogwarts with prefect, head boy, and numerous awards under his belt. After that, he disappeared into exile. Nobody ever heard of Tom Riddle again for a long time, other than when the professors would sit around in the staff room, wondering about whatever had happened to that talented orphan. They did, however, hear of another man, the darkest wizard to have ever lived. Lord Voldemort. Every man was afraid and succumbed to calling him You-Know-Who. This wizard performed acts of great homicide, aiming to wipe out the entire Muggleborn race."

'But why?' Someone asked.

'He was under the impression that Muggleborn's gained their powers by stealing them from wizards - complete nonsense. He was crazy, to put it simply. Anyway, it's good to know that this class has some brains, and remember previous topics. Now, take one of these and pass them on. We're going to now be going over his death, as it is very relevant to everything else we're going to be learning. They're Harry Potter chocolate Frog cards. I'm sure some of you are familiar to this one. Who wants to read it out?' The man scanned the room, ignoring the hands which had shot up, instead turning to Albus, smiling. 'You.'

Albus looked down at the card. He'd gotten that card so many times that it was annoying. Every time he opened a chocolate frog with his dad on he'd groan and say 'not again!'

It had been normal in their family; Rose's parents had them, Lorcan's grandfather did, Aunt Angelina did. But something clicked at that moment inside Albus' head, that perhaps not everyone's parents had a card.

'Harry Potter: the first and only wizard to survive all of the Unforgiveables multiple times.' Albus had known this, he'd assumed it had happened during battle when he was in the army, but it still wasn't nice to think about your dad being shot with the Killing Curse, even if he didn't know what the other two actually did. 'Earning him the title 'The Boy who Lived'. He is also the youngest ever winner of the 1994 Triwizard tournament. He enjoys watching and playing Quidditch and became the youngest seeker in over a century in his first year at Hogwarts. He's most famous for his defeat of the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, during the Battle of Hogwarts (1998) at 17 years old, having evaded him six times in the past. Since then he has been known for revolutionising the Ministry of Magic, and has become the youngest ever Head Auror. Mr. Potter also established Dumbledore's Army with Mrs. Weasley in their fifth year. Mr. Potter has also held many charity events and spent 5 straight years on top of witch weekly's 'Most Fancyable Wizard.' A round of snickers circled the class, and Albus blushed. 'His wife Ginerva Potter has to date given him three children, James Sirius, Albus Severus and Lily Luna, and they lived together in the English countryside,' Albus paused and took a breath, before continuing, 'until their daughter was kidnapped at 10 years old.'

Albus's throat constricted and he was glad that that was the last sentence. He stared at the card, realising that since their hadn't been an official statement released outside of the Auror Office that she had been found, the card wouldn't have been updated. Sitting down abruptly, Rose caught his shaking hand in her warm one. He was unsurprised to find that she was staring at the professor with venom in her eyes, for he felt much the same.

For the rest of the class professor Quinn explained about the prophecy and Peter Pettigrew's betrayal whilst Albus racked his brains for a time when this topic had come up at home, but he knew that there wasn't one.

Professor Quinn taught about how James Potter was wandless but confronted the dark wizard regardless, and how his grandmother was given the chance to step away, but refused, unbeknownst to her protecting her son. He explained the rebounding curse, and Harry Potter's first victory as a mere baby.

Albus left the class wondering if he even knew his dad at all.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, I'm almost done with the whole set up and character building and I can't wait to dive into the actual story!_

_One thing though, I try to balance out the Angst, but I'm not sure if it is too angsty or not, so please let me know what you think :) __And also, who's your favourite character so far, and who would you like to see more of? __Do you have any predictions/suspicions about what's going to happen?_

_~ Racketeer_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Scorpius yawned as he slumped down on the sofa next to the fire in the common room. It was Friday morning. The stage of the week where, contrary to common sense, you begin to feel less lethargic and more energetic. Lessons had started back on Tuesday, and the past three days had been fairly uneventful; hour-long lectures about the necessity for them to pick up their work pace now that things counted towards their OWLs, with the promise that the following year was bound to be their hardest yet. No one wanted another lecture, but everyone was content with not working, so they didn't remind the professors that they'd heard it four times already that day.

Scorpius looked at Albus. His best friend had been withdrawn since that bloody History lesson Tuesday afternoon, so he decided to distract him and begun with the first mindless topic that sprung to mind.

"I did it, you know."

"You did, huh?"

Scorpius nodded. "In the holidays, and then again last night."

"That's cool," Albus replied, "good for you."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Well, until you tell me what it is that you're on about, yep."

Scorpius grinned at Albus, and the differences between their personalities. Albus was generally more reserved with a sarcastic tongue and a hot temper, whereas Scorpius generally came across as loud and relaxed, but was private and secretive to those he didn't trust explicitly. "I shagged a girl."

Albus sat up, suddenly attentive. "Really, who? You only decided to tell me now?"

"Philippa Freeham. Seventh Year," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, she's my cousins friend," Albus replied, dumbfounded, "I didn't know you were going out with her."

"… I'm not."

"Are you going to ask her out?"

"Um, no. I don't think so."

"Worried she'll say no? Because she probably won't if she had sex with you."

"It's not that – I mean I don't really want to have to _talk _to her, you know? Or buy her flowers, or be tied down or anything - I mean, I'm fine with how it is."

"If my parents heard me think of a girl like that…" Albus shook his head. "You're unbelievable."

"Well, my dad knows," Scorpius laughed. "When I came home he told me that I had thoroughly shagged hair."

"What happened?" Albus questioned, with wide eyes.

"He asked me about her and I gave him pretty much the same response as I gave you. He laughed, warned me that he had learned the hard way how sensitive girls' feelings are, oh and then he said - get this – 'do I need to have the talk with you? On second thoughts – you seem to know exactly what you're doing. Just don't bring home a pregnant witch or I assure you that your mum will chop your dick off.'"

Albus laughed loudly. He never would understand the relationships within Malfoy family. Uncle Ron had made it clear that their families hadn't gotten along in the past, but Albus didn't really know why. Anyway, Scor and his dad were literally like best friends, so the bloke couldn't be too bad. There was a pause. "Was it, you know – good?"

"Pretty good." Scorpius thought about it. "I didn't have to be careful or anything as she's done it before. That went both ways, I suppose, if you get what I mean."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, from my vast amount of experience-"

"Okay you sarcastic prat." Scorpius threw a pillow at him. "Well she knew what to do which was good, but she wasn't as tight as she, uh, once was."

"So _that's _what Louis meant by 'early bird catches the worm'!" Albus muttered to himself. Albus had always thought that the two would get on exceptionally well, given the chance.

"Either way, I definitely liked it – more so the second time round, although I'm unsure as to whether that's down to the fact that I knew what to expect, or because it was in a broom closet which was just more, you know – hot? Dangerous?"

"I'd go with the fact that it was in a broom closet – hate to take you off your high horse."

"Are your bags even ready?" A familiar voice came from behind them. "If you don't leave now then you two will be late for class."

Scorpius and Albus stood up, making eye contact; an unspoken vow to never let Rose hear about what had just been said, ever.

'O-O'

Eliza sat down in the middle row at History of Magic last period that day. She was in the centre row at the back on the right; Phil was to the left one seat away from her, whilst Dom was sat with her twin, thanks to the boy-girl rule. As the bell rung and the lesson commenced, Eliza realised that Philippa had been shooing away all the other boys who tried to sit in between them, apparently saving it for Potter. Good grief. Yet he hadn't turned up.

Not that she agreed with skiving, but she couldn't blame him for not wanting to show up after all the awful rumours about the History of Magic lessons that had been circulating. She was confused, though, as surely it would have only made him more curious? Then again, it must be boring for him to hear his parent's life stories again and again. It wasn't as if the professor could teach him anything he doesn't already know.

A couple of minutes later, Eliza jumped in shock as the chair next to her began moving of its own accord. She was about to exclaim, when she saw a slip of a scuffed school shoe on the floor, and immediately connected it with Potters' Cloak of Invisibility.

So, he'd taken the coward's way out.

Something that Dominique had said to her sometime last year swam murkily into Eliza's mind.

_'I don't know why he even keeps asking you out.' _

_'Uh, thanks?' Eliza replied._

_'It's just that you'd never work. You're complete opposites!'_

_'In what way?' Philippa asked curiously._

_'It's hard to explain. James' problem is that he feels everything too much, whereas Eliza's problem is that she refuses to feel anything at all.'_

Eliza shook her head and continued with the lesson.

"I'm glad we got through that so quickly." Professor Quinn smiled, referring to the overview of the First Wizarding War. "We now have time to go onto the early years of Harry Potter, please make notes.

"Despite the fact that any Wizarding family would have eagerly raised Harry, and Dumbledore was aware that they were unpleasant Muggles, he left the baby Harry on the doorstep of his last remaining relatives. He correctly argued that they were at least aware of magic and the blood protection supplied by Lily Potter – the First, of course – would be enforced. Dumbledore did, however, underestimate their cruelty." The professor paused for effect and confused glances were passed around the room. "This is little known information that I doubt any of you will have heard before, however it will impress examiners in your NEWT's should the topic come up. The information I am about to share was revealed after the war during the trial of Vernon Dursley, Harry's Uncle, for child abuse."

There were gasps around the room, as understanding sunk in but beside her, Potter remained silent. Regardless of the fact that he was a tosser, her heart went out to him.

"Surely you don't mean that Unc- uh, Harry was abused?" Dominique asked in utter shock.

"Both mentally and physically," was the grave reply. "Harry Potter was beaten constantly throughout his childhood, and was forced to cook and clean for hours every day from his third birthday, and wore the scrap hand-me-downs from his cousin, and was fed left overs, providing that there was any. Despite this Harry assured that they were out of danger when he went to fight, and it was the Aurors who kept watch over them that insisted on a trial. During which it was revealed that should a speck of dust be left on the window sill, Harry would be beaten with a belt until he lost consciousness, bloody and broken."

Gasps erupted around them, but not from her. She recognised the images in her own mind all too well, and she looked firmly forward; knuckles clenched so hard that they were turning white. Philippa whispered something across to her, but Eliza was too busy trying to push away her own crippling memories to listen.

"Do any of you have cupboards under your staircases at home?"

The odd question distracted Eliza momentarily, and a photograph with the watermark of 'EVIDENCE' stamped across it was passed around the room in stunned silence. As a result of sitting on the back line, Eliza was the last person to be passed the image. It was slid across the table to her from Phil, and with a knot in her stomach she held it down low, so that Potter could see it too.

A bed the size of a cot filled the cramped space. There was no pillow, and sharp jutting springs were evident beneath a thread-bare cotton blanket. Spider webs drooped thickly, almost _decoratively_, from the stairs above, and a lone toy soldier rose valiantly from the thick layer of dust on a sad slanted shelf, carved into which were the initials H.J.P.

A tear danced down her pale cheek and onto the photograph of the only _home_ that the prized fucking saviour of their world had known for an entire decade.

_'She refuses to feel anything at all'_

A hand slipped from the cloak and came to rest on her knee, comfortingly, where their classmates wouldn't see it. A shiver of something unfamiliar jolted up her spine, but Eliza harshly shoved his hand off. Potter and Eliza did _not_ comfort one another.

Eliza scolded herself for allowing Potter to bear witness to weakness, as Professor Quinn went on to explain to dramatic effect about how on multiple occasions Harry had been thrown in his cupboard for a whole week with no food, light or water, for example, on one occasion for speaking when he was not invited to, when the bell went, much to the relief of most of the class.

Eliza stood up and when she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder and realised from instinct, perhaps, that Potter hadn't moved a muscle and - no, remember? Potter and Eliza did not comfort each other.

Yet she couldn't help Dominique's voice reverberating around her head.

'_He feels _too_ much.' _

'O-O'

James tucked his cloak into his bag and sank down next to Fred in the DADA classroom. After History he had gone to sit by the willow tree for an hour or two, thinking – or rather - not knowing what to think. It was only when students had started to stream out onto the ground during lunch that he realised he had missed the rest of his morning lessons.

Fred was talking to him, but James looked impatiently around the classroom, waiting for the class to start. He generally found the subject interesting and useful, but he didn't really like the professor very much. Dominique had once commented how she seemed to teach them what they'd need to know to pass exams and nothing further and James couldn't agree more. It wasn't as though he wanted to be an Auror or anything (he had no plans to be in his father's shadow any more than he currently was) and take the subject further, but still he had selected in for NEWTs as he was good at it and wanted to be doing something worthwhile that would help him in real life.

"Quiet down," called Professor Walker. "As seventh years, it's been decided that you're old enough to learn about the Unforgivable Curses and deemed it prudent for you to see the effects demonstrated on insects. At the end of the lesson there will be a homework set on a person I mention frequently, so listen carefully and you will pick up on the details about their experiences. Remember that just because in the past war they were used frequently, doesn't mean they're taken more lightly by the Ministry. If you perform any one of these curses it's enough to guarantee you a one way ticket to Azkaban. So, can anyone name one of the Unforgivable Curses? Creevey?" She asked, as most of the hands in the class shot up. James had kept his solidly down.

"Well, there's the Imperius curse, where you can control the persons mind and force them to do things."

The professor nodded. "I won't be teaching you how to perform them, or inflicting them on you as has been done to students in the past, as that isn't necessary. You just need to be able to recognise them." Professor Walker pointed her wand at the spider in front of her and a couple of seconds later, it began to Irish Dance.

The class snickered at the sight and Louis said, "It's unforgivable to make someone dance?"

The professor glanced at Louis and then back on the spider, her forehead wrinkling in concentration. The spider scuttled obediently across the desk, and quite suddenly attacked the other one until it lay motionless.

"There are other ways to make someone dance, like turning on some music," the professor suggested. "However, there are few other ways to completely control another being. Imagine if these were humans. One moment an innocent bystander, then with the flick of a wand, a wanted murderer."

"Many high up ministry officials were under the Imperius Curse during the war. Many high up high up Death Eaters claimed as such. The curse is indeed possible to throw off, however, but it requires incredibly strong willpower which most could only ever dream of possessing. On the contrary, Harry Potter managed to say throw it off the first time it was used on him when he was barely fourteen years of age. Later that year, I believe that Lord Voldemort attempted to use it on him, but Harry retained control."

James' eyes widened. _Fourteen. _Lily was fourteen! His dad had been that young? James was really beginning to understand how horrific his father's life had been, but he felt that he wasn't even scraping the surface. And it made him feel angry.

"Okay, so the second Unforgivable?"

The professor scanned the room, and his eyes landed on Fred, who had his hand unsurely straight. "Weasley?"

Dominique, Louis and Fred all started to speak at once, before looking at each other and laughing.

"Fred," the professor cleared up impatiently.

"There's Avada Kedavra," he stated, "the Killing Curse."

"Yes, you'd know about that one. I met your namesake, great man. Would say one of a kind, but he and your father – double trouble, they were. The Killing Curse does what it says on the tin and kills the target instantaneously; it's as simple as that. It was the cause of most deaths in the war, and there's only one person since the beginning of time known to have survived it. Harry Potter. As you undoubtedly know, he was hit with the curse twice, and managed to survive both times, and I'm not going to go into detail as to why as it would take far too long, and that's what your history lessons are for."

James was subdued. He'd known about this. Hell, it was just about one of the only things he had known, but that didn't make it anymore easy for him to hear. In fact, it was unbelievably hard for him to process; he just kept picturing his father being shot with a killing curse. It was giving him horrible mental images. People murdering his father; the goofy guy who had taught him to ride a broom and had mentored him through life. Shot. With the deadliest curse. James began to breathe heavily at the thought that by all means, his father really oughtn't be alive. All of this was striking chords within him and it was too much for him to hear. He began to sweat.

The professor selected a spider, and flicked her wand with a dull expression. And it fell, flat on its back.

James stared at it; picturing his father falling, flat on his back.

"The third and final Unforgivable? Eliza?"

"Crucio," she stuttered, "the Torture Curse."

"This curse is, in my opinion, the worst of them all. It's sheer, undiluted agony. The curse specifically targets each individual pain receptor and makes them feel like they're on fire; like they're being plucked out and crunched up, whilst attached to you. It takes around five minutes for the average person to begin to lose all sense of self, and approximately ten minutes for them to go completely and irreversibly insane. This is because the curse increases in intensity the longer it is inflicted. Half of the beds in the Permanent Stay Clinic at St Mungo's are full down to the Cruciatus."

James smiled wanly, thankful that his dad, who howled when he stubbed his toe on the shower corner, hadn't been mentioned again. That would have been so much worse, as the other two curses hadn't really worked on his dad.

When the professor began the demonstration, the smile was wiped right off of James' face. She held the curse for twenty seconds, when the spider just, _died,_ from the pain.

"So, dire topic, but it may come up in the exam. Can anybody give me an example of someone?"

This time nobody put their hand up. Nobody _wanted_ to.

The professor nodded understandingly and continued, "Remember what I said about today's homework – it will be set on the only person to have been objected to each unforgivable multiple times – and survived."

James' breathing picked up.

"Harry Potter was first inflicted with the Cruciatus Curse when he was again, fourteen years old-"

"Are you saying that Harry Potter was inflicted with all three Unforgivables before his fifteenth birthday?" Eliza asked in shock. "That's younger than the majority of students currently in the school!"

"It's not so surprising when you remember that his defeat over Lord Voldemort occurred when he was at the same age that you are now," Professor Walker said, "but yes, you're correct. And each of them at the hand of the most powerful wizard, Lord Voldemort. Meaning that the curses would have been of much higher, excruciating power. He was then inflicted with it multiple times throughout his youth."

James closed his eyes, remembering his cousin Lucy whining about how she missed her parents at their annual campout, and contrasting it to his dad's experiences at that age.

"It didn't stop when Voldemort fell. It was all over the news at one point, before you lot would have been born, that when Potter went on a mission with the Aurors to round up remaining Death Eaters, he ended up jumping in front of his brother in law, Ron Weasley, to deflect the curse, where he was then held under it for a further approximate eight minutes before Auror Weasley managed to break through the Death Eater's shield and capture him."

James closed his eyes and imagined the writhing spider, giving in after just twenty seconds.

Something suddenly unfogged in James' mind - the Healers in the hospital earlier that year, just after Lily had been found; telling his parents that there were evident signs of frequent torture spells, Crucio mainly, as James and Albus were pressed up against the door.

He pictured his baby sister writhing in agony frequently from ten years old. An antagonistic thought sprung to mind, that he had succeeded in an area that neither he nor Albus had been able to; she'd beaten their dad at something.

"It is estimated that the total amount of time Harry Potter has been under the Cruciatus curse for in total, is around 45 minutes. Three quarters of an hour; about the length of this class. Could any of you stand to be in that sheer amount of _excruciating_ unadultered pain for that long? Don't fear, though, he most likely got used to the Cruciatus in the end. At least, he didn't lose his mind as it was in separate occasions, and his pain tolerance is undoubtedly incredibly high."

_He got used to the Cruciatus. _

Dad reading bedtime stories to a two year old James, who'd fall asleep on his chest before he got to the end of the first three pages.

James reading bedtime stories to a sleepy two year old Lily.

_The curse increases in intensity the longer it is inflicted_

Dad sticking the plaster to his knee whilst James cried after falling from his broom on his fourth birthday.

Lily jumping on his bed to wake him up at Christmas.

_Sheer, undiluted agony._

Dad showing off flipping pancakes so high that he missed catching it and one landed on James' seven year old head.

Lily's guilty face after being caught in the biscuit jar.

_Shot the killing curse, multiple times._

James pushed his chair back, the sound of the scraping legs reverberating around the silent classroom. He grabbed his bag as he heard confused, questioning voices, but none more confused and questioning than the one inside his head. Fred's voice somewhere, but he couldn't focus on them; on anything. He had to block it out. Block everything out.

Hand on handle, turn, run.

* * *

_Hey guys, thanks for reading! __Please leave me a review - it's the only payment that fanfiction authors get! :)_

_Do you think that I should make Philippa a more important character? I have an idea of a good plot to weave in for her, however I don't want to introduce too many potent Own Characters because I'm not sure if you guys like them, although it's pretty inevitable as we weren't given that many characters for the next generation in the first place. Please let me know what you think!_


	7. Meal at the Burrow

Chapter seven 

Meal at the Burrow

Teddy put a hand on his head in an attempt to quell the dizzy sensation that came hand in hand with apparition. It was the adults' annual 'they're back at school' celebration/mourning get-together. This included teddy as soon as he had graduated, and he distinctly remembered realising in horror that there would be no pseudo-cousins around to play games with, and that he would have engage in intelligent, mature conversation if he wanted their respect that he was no longer a child. He had tried to talk to George about the economic situation at Gringott's - only to have him laugh in his face.

Teddy knew that his best friend would be feeling the same today, and he skimmed the garden, his eyes soon depicting Victoire after only a second as though wired to her. She was sat on the faded blue wooden bench; squinting up at her Grandma who had just hugged her, and was gushing over how beautiful she looked in her blue summer dress – nothing new there.

"One moment, Audrey." Teddy overhead Percy saying to his wife. "I'm going to go and welcome Victoire."

Teddy shook his head and hot-heeled it over to greet Victoire first, smirking; talking to Percy would definitely live up to her expectations. Even though this was her family, she'd never been here without other kids before – as an adult. Teddy figured it was his job to go and remind her that her place would always be right beside him.

Molly bumbled off and Victoire had pulled a book from her old bag, and it was propped open in her hands, a page dancing every now and again in the softly descending evening breeze. She glanced up as a shadow blocked the light of the late summer sun falling on her porcelain face, clearly not having heard the leaves beneath Teddy's feet crunching as he approached her.

Teddy slipped the book from her hands by way of greeting. He'd known her his whole life, but her little quirks still made him smile; for instance, you'd probably expect her to be reading a flimsy, girly romance novel, but no, it was a crime fic.

"Does reading this stuff before bed not scare the bajeezus out of you?" he asked conversationally; something he had pondered many a time.

"Nice to see you, too." She smiled and reached up to hug him. It had been a week since they had last spoke, as Teddy had recently finished his training for St. Mungo's and had become busy with real work. It was far too long in their books, although they had had to get used to it the previous year when Teddy had left school. Occupational Hazard of having a high-flying best friend who wasn't willing to retake their whole seventh year for you. Pfsht. "But to answer your question, no. It does give me the most interesting of dreams, though."

"Otherwise defined as _nightmares." _

_He cut her off when she began to protest. __"__Besides_, what are you doing sat alone over here? Party's over there." He motioned somewhere behind him, then stopped and smirked. "Come to think of it, now that I'm over here, I suppose you're where the parties at."

Victoire laughed loudly and hit him playfully on the chest, recognising the quote from something they'd overheard Louis saying a week or so ago to some girl at the summer festival.

"Glad you finally caught up with me," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulder as he sat down beside her. "I at last have some decent company to spend these long hours with!"

"My company's decent, you say?" Victoire swooned. "Why Teddy, I think that may be the most generous compliment you've ever indulged! But I'm curious - what do they even do at these 'parties?'"

"It varies. Musical Chairs, drinking games, Pass-The-Parcel, White T-shirt Contests, Hide-And-Seek, Seven Minutes in Heaven-"

"So a bit mellower than what I imagined, dammit," she sighed jestingly, before frowning. "Okay, I cannot get the image out of my head of Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry flirtingly having a White T-shirt Contest."

Teddy grimaced, "and what would you know about White T-shirt Parties?"

"Only what I've picked up whilst in attendance," Victoire shot back; guessing correctly that it would push his buttons, and gaining satisfaction from that.

"Victoire – what? When did _you_ go to one of them?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She smirked. "I'll be sure to invite you next time."

"No- wait, yes, do. But I'm just picturing your dads face when you got home – what did he say?"

"Well, I didn't go back to mine afterwards, did I? And have you not heard of a Drying Charm? Second Year-"

"Hey, stop trying to change the subject. You're not implying what I think you are…? You're 18!"

"And therefore perfectly legal."

Teddy opened his mouth to protest, but was distracted momentarily when something flew smack into his head.

He turned around, bewildered, in search of the offending object, to find that it must have been the owl which was now having mail untied from its leg by his godfather. Teddy was going to call out in mock-annoyance, but paused, as he noticed that Harry's face was paling; the creases in his forehead becoming more pronounce, as his eyes flew down the page.

Normally Teddy would have ignored it, preferring to stay out of Harry's stressful work commitments. However, the parchment was distinctly green – Albus' signature colour. With all the youngsters Molly had devised a system where each of the cousins would have their own signature colour – it made putting the washing away much easier and making jumpers at Christmas also. So each year before they went away the children were gifted with their specific colour writing parchment, and to see such a _fearful_ expression on Harry's face whilst reading a letter from his youngest son was certainly not good.

Teddy passed Victoire's' book back to her, and hurried over to him, growing increasingly concerned for the kid he considered a brother.

"What is it, Harry? Is Albus okay?"

Harry said nothing but thrust the letter into Teddy's hand, running a hand through his hair.

_ To Dad and most likely Mum, _

_There have been no disasters natural disasters, the train didn't crash, Lily's settled back in nicely and James is enjoying his personal dorm, the norm. So that aside, the reason I'm writing to you so soon isn't to tell you I've forgotten something. And I'm stalling. _

_Something pretty weird happened earlier on today. Not sure if you've heard but Professor Binns has finally retired and a specialist teacher had been called in to teach everyone about the last Wizarding war. But it's pretty much all about you, dad. As today was our first lesson, we covered 'The Prophecy', 'The Betrayal' and up until when Voldemort himself apparently tried to _**murder** _you, but the opposite happened. Professor's lying, isn't he?_

_I don't know, I mean, once I got over the shock (sort of got over it), it kinda made sense. The people praising us on the street, the unchartered fame, everything. Like the pieces of the puzzle fell into place._

_It was intense, that's all. I was am shocked that I've never been explained the actual events before – supposing what we were taught is true, right? If it is then I guess I'm kind of upset because everyone else in the class seemed to know more than I did about what had happened, which is humiliating, confusing and, well, kind of belittling that they know more about my family than I do._

_Lily hasn't yet had a lesson, but I know from Fred that the seventh years did on Friday morning (it's Saturday night for me right now), and that they got through more than us – right up through your childhood to just before you got your Hogwarts letter. Fred wouldn't tell me too much about it, but I know that James has refused to speak to anybody since and skipped the rest of his lessons yesterday. He even promised to meet Lily and blew her off. and I'm not telling you this to grass on him, but because, so what I'm really saying is, I think that it would be best if _

_I guess I'm just confused and usually I'll come to you about this stuff because you're the only one I've ever felt like I could – but now I don't even know If I can should. Will I get an honest reply? Or will you continue to hide things from me?_

_I know that Rose thinks I'm overreacting, but I don't think that I am. I guess I just want to know if I have any more surprises to look forward to next lesson. I get how betrayed James is feeling right now and we'd much rather have heard all of this from you. Ten years ago._

_ Albus. _

Teddy glanced up at Harry, worried. Harry had been the best second dad that he could have asked for; that his mum and dad could have asked for, and he knew he was lucky. Ever since Harry was 18 he had Teddy over Saturday night and would take him places on the Sunday; a thirst to prove that he could be there for Teddy. As his grandmother had grown older, Teddy begun to stay over at Harry's more often; by the time he started Hogwarts he was on four nights a week with three young children of his own, and he always felt at home; welcome, and never like an inconvenience.

Andromeda was great at supplying information on his mother, but had limited knowledge about his father. So upon asking his godfather questions, Harry had been very understanding and empathetic to the situation, lying down on Teddy's bed on those Saturday nights until dawn, explaining in full detail every little thing he knew of Remus Lupin, and then going above and beyond in getting more tales and photos and the like from his fathers' old friends. It was little things that Teddy loved to hear, like how Sirius had told Harry that Remus was actually an excellent Quidditch player, but he never tried out because being in the spotlight means more attention and more questions, and Remus didn't like questions. Or how his dad himself had once told Harry that every night before the full moon, James let Remus share his bed. Apparently they never spoke about it, but it ended up just being habit. They thought no one knew but Sirius had butted in at that point and told Harry that he could always hear James whispering at his dad to hurry up and get in. Lily also walked in on them still cuddling in the morning of their Seventh Year. Sirius had to explain that they were in fact not gay together and just having 'pre moon cuddles'. Then Harry had given the Marauders Map to Teddy (which he had then passed onto Albus upon graduation), knowing that it would mean the same to him, to have something that had once belonged to his father, evidence of the happiest time of his life. Harry just got it.

However, Teddy knew that Harry and the Weasley's had made the decision to give the children the problem free childhood that they never knew, and shaded the worst, horrific parts of their own pasts, only divulging the necessary bare minimum; satiating their questions, until they were adults and not having this knowledge would be a disadvantage in knowing how the world worked.

It was when Teddy left Hogwarts – was officially an adult - that Harry had sat him down and explained everything in detail because, Harry explained, he had now had the innocent childhood that Harry himself had never had. Victoire had recently been told the same.

Looking back, Teddy was grateful that he hadn't been aware of the true horrors that had rocked his world, and upon reflection thought that Harry had chosen a good age to divulge the information, because now he wasn't a naïve little boy going out into the world, but was aware of everything that had shaped the way they all worked today, but in a way that hadn't made him give up any childhood innocence.

He recognised that this was probably because he had heard it all from Harry, whereas Albus and James wouldn't understand this as they were hearing it all from someone else, and that aspect of trust would be gone. They were both in their mid-teens – thinking they were adults, and wouldn't understand why the harsh reality had been blocked from their view.

"They need to hear it from you," Teddy said slowly.

Harry nodded in agreement, took the letter back and muttered something urgently about finding Ginny.

"What was that about?" Victoire approached from behind him.

"Albus wrote. He said that the curriculum has changed and they have a new teacher who's drilling every little detail of the war – focusing on Harry's trials and tribulations."

"That must be awful for them," said Victoire, concerned, "it won't be as bad for Dom or Louis, because our parents weren't as involved as Uncle Harry."

"To say Albus is confused is an understatement… and it looks like James is extremely pissed as well. I'm glad they waited to tell me."

"I have mixed feelings about it," Victoire admitted. "But you can see where the boys are coming from though, right?"

"Of course I can, but surely they get why nobody would want to relive that to them?" Teddy countered, as Molly called everyone over to the long old table for dinner and they sat down beside one another somewhere in the middle.

"I don't know; they're hurting for the traumas that Uncle Harry had to suffer and fight through – it'll be easiest for them to project the pain into anger, you know?"

Teddy thought about it and smiled; "now this is why I keep a girl friend close."

"You two are finally together?!" Aunt Angelina gushed happily, happening to overhear Teddy's final few words as she sat down opposite George, beside Teddy.

"About time," smiled Audrey.

George wolf whistled, before speaking up, "who was it that bet they'd be together as soon as Vic graduated? They've just won a lot of money."

Victoire's mouth dropped open in disbelief and Teddy's eyes bulged, and they exchanged surprised, red-faced glances, before bursting out laughing in unison.

"What is zis, Victoire?" Fleur asked, from further down the table.

"I should have said 'female friend'," Teddy correctly himself, as Victoire repeatedly tried to convince the woman with exclamations of "we are _not _together!"

"I cannot believe they've started a betting pool about us," Victoire grumbled, as she spooned some food onto her plate, but the fond eye roll gave her away.

Teddy knew how much Victoire loved being part of a family which were closer than most. Especially since she had recently realised that this was due to their past. It didn't just include blood-relatives either, Teddy noted as he glanced down the table to where Neville and Hannah, along with Lee and Katie Jordan were laughing about something, and his own grandma was sat beside Ginny. Come to think of it, Teddy wasn't related, but he considered himself as such and was grateful of it every day.

"What's so surprising, they're a very competitive bunch. We're best friends, close as can be, boy and girl."

"The thought of you in that way though, you know, being attracted to you…_"_

'Ouch,' Teddy said, only half joking. He'd gotten a lot of that at school; from jealous guys who were wondering how cool, sexy Veela Victoire could be so close to awkward orphan Teddy. They figured it was just because he was two years older, and had the whole Metamorphmagus thing going for him. He distinctly remembered some girl commenting about how it would make for some very interesting role-play. Of course, it had nothing whatsoever to do with that fact that they were family friends.

Her cousins who had acknowledged what people thought of them simply presumed that it was just because 'cool, sexy, Veela Victoire' became Victoire Weasley, and 'awkward orphan Teddy' became Teddy Lupin. Teddy and Victoire, however, disagreed with this. They didn't become two different people around each other, they became one; Teddyandvictoire; working in sync, as one unit, as they had their whole lives.

"Don't tell me you don't agree."

Teddy just shrugged.

"Oh come on," Victoire laughed, "look me in the eye and tell me you think I'm attractive in a potential way."

Teddy hesitated – this was unchartered territory, but nevertheless he connected with Victoire's ice blue eyes. "I, Teddy Lupin, think that you, Victoire Weasley, are attractive in the most potential way there is." But some of the sincerity was lost in the way that Teddy made his eyes change about 15 different colours within the sentence. "And that has nothing whatsoever to do with your Veela blood," he joked, earning a hit from Victoire, "Ow – kidding!"

"Come off it," She looked down at the meat she was cutting, but Teddy still noticed with satisfaction that she hadn't managed to hide her blush.

Teddy wondered why he was pushing it, and when did this become a challenge? It had turned quite serious, so he decided to lighten the mood. "You're in denial, Victoire, my friend. You secretly fancy the pants off of me. You want the D-"

"Not like I haven't already seen your 'D'. Or did you forget that time Fred dekegged you at-"

"You can shut up now," he suggested.

"You've seen me at my worst," Victoire continued musingly.

"I've seen you at your best too," Teddy felt obliged to add, "but, out of curiosity, when would you consider to have been your worst?"

As he said it, images he saw echoed in Victoire's own eyes flashed through his mind. Of Victoire crying and sobbing and wailing in his bed for two days straight when her French grand-mere had died when she was eleven. When they went swimming in their clothes when they were fourteen and she'd got dragged out to sea. He hadn't had time to go and get Bill, and had had to go and save her himself. She had been thrust against a rock and had broken her arm, but she'd made him promise not to tell her parents as they'd tell her off for swimming in a storm and wouldn't give her as much freedom on her beloved beach. Instead he'd had to perform illegal magic to dry them both, and then take her back to his and tell his grandma that she had broken her arm from falling from a tree, and that it was his fault. When they had sat together by the lake in silence in the days following Lily's disappearance. Or when, in her Fifth Year she'd stood at the doors of the Great Hall until their eyes connected, and she turned away and he'd followed her, eventually coming to a stop in a disused classroom. He'd held her until the clock struck midnight, only gathering was that it was something to do with a boy, when she suddenly stood up and began screaming spells with tears rushing over her high cheek bones, and wouldn't stop until every single thing in the room was destroyed apart from the two of them. Or the time when-

Victoire shook her head and said lightly, "between the general ages of ten and sixteen. I was at a prolonged awkward stage."

Teddy rolled his eyes. "You didn't have an awkward stage," to which Victoire blushed prettily. He appreciated her effort at keeping the conversation light and said, "and here I was thinking you were on about the time you blew a snot bucket all over me. Or that time when your parents were away so you stayed at mine and got sick in the middle of the night. Those carrots looked really fetching all over my pyjamas."

"I have no idea what you're on about," Victoire lied, smirking.

"Look at the two of them flirting," Hermione said to Ron, smiling fondly from across the table. She for one recognised the transition from friendship to relationship and as far as she could conclude, it had been a gradual process ever since the two acknowledged they were of different genders. "Looks familiar…"

"I remember when we were like that." Ron cringed at the memories. "I feel for Teddy."

Audrey nodded. "I might still win this bet you know."

"Let's hope he can get a move on with it faster than Ron did," Hermione smirked.

Victoire, not having heard the rest of the conversation, asked what her aunt was on about.

"It only took Ron a few years and the jealousy from a few other guys asking me out before he plucked up the courage," Hermione explained to her niece.

"I asked you to the Yule Ball before anyone else!" Ron defended himself.

"If I recall," Ginny butted in, "it was very much as a last resort. Don't worry; Harry was equally oblivious at the time."

But Hermione had locked eyes with Ron, realisation flickering behind them. "It was you?"

Ron huffed in annoyance but nodded.

Teddy looked at Victoire in confusion, "it's annoying when couples do that," he said, but there was a distinct fondness in his tone, "just looked at each other and-"

"But isn't that the kind of love you want to have?" she softly cut across him, and Teddy was glad she wasn't looking at him, but past him, as he wasn't too sure of what to reply.

Teddy swivelled his head to see what Vic was fixated on, and noted that Hermione had by now flung her arms around Ron's neck and was kissing him full on the mouth.

What had happened to Victoire gipping along with him when PDA was inflicted upon them?! He voiced his concerns, and promptly a smack on the arm ensued.

"Boys!" She rolled her eyes, but then smiled mischievously. "Is this about the time when Seven Minutes in Heaven kicks off?"

Teddy laughed, before nodding in all seriousness.

"I guess I bagsie you then,' Victoire chuckled absently, but upon noticing Teddy's lingering gaze, she seemed to become more seemed flustered. "Well – yeah. I mean, we're not related."

"Am I not like a brother to you?" Teddy stuck his bottom lip out.

Victoire considered it. "No. I mean – I love you more than anything, but I've never thought of you as my brother," she paused thoughtfully and grinned, "you're more of the… annoying next door neighbour."

"The kind that you love regardless?" he asked hopefully, fluttering his eyelashes, and they chuckled together. Describing their bond as neighbourly was laughable – they were so much more than any other best friends they knew of, perhaps rivalled only by Ron and Harry, or George and Lee.

"I get it," Teddy reassured her, "I mean, after Louis, you must've really been put off wanting another brother."

Victoire grinned but didn't reply, twisting spaghetti around her fork before engulfing it unceremoniously.

When Molly coughed loudly, and Ron and Hermione finally seemed to realise that they were in company, at the dinner table, they quickly separated. Hermione tried to hide her mortification behind her curly hair, but Ron brushed it back from her face and tucked it behind her ear with a bright smile.

It was then explained that apparently Ron did indeed ask Hermione to the Yule Ball before anyone else. But once Hermione got the invitation from the "secret admirer" he was too afraid to speak up and say it was him.

Teddy had to refrain from cooing to keep hold of his masculinity.

"So, Victoire, what are your plans now you've finished school?" Percy spoke up from across the table, gaining the families attention, as they were all interested.

Victoire tensed, and Teddy knew it was because she felt drastically unsure, suddenly drowned beneath the rich head of departments surrounding her. Whilst he had always known that he wanted to work on finding ultimately finding a cure for Lycanthropy, Victoire just wanted to draw and read. She opened her mouth, Teddy figured to explain that she wasn't entirely sure – that she wanted to earn some money whilst figuring it out, when George cut across her.

"Please don't say the Ministry," he groaned jestingly, "the last thing we need is another Percy!"

There was a well-humoured laugh coming from the man in question. When the war was explained to him, nothing was left out – Teddy supposed that was part of the deal Harry had made with himself. He knew that George and Percy's relationship had suffered even more after Fred's death. On Christmas day of 1998, seven months after the war had finished, George had blown up at Percy, saying that he wished that Percy had died instead of Fred. The only response Percy gave was 'I do too.' After that the two brothers had cried into each other's arms for hours and have been the closest out of the siblings ever since.

A couple of people turned to Molly to see if she had any reaction, but after what it had bought out of Percy, she had been less encouraging of her family to work there.

After that the conversation carried on, broken by the occasionally clinking of cutlery against plates, and calls to pass the Yorkshire Puddings.

Dinner finished and the breeze had turned into something sharper, so most of the adults retreated inside to sit around the cosy fire in the living room. Andromeda, however, announced that she was tired and Teddy decided to go back with her in ten minutes. His new flat wasn't fully furnished and liveable yet – he was going to work hard after work during the week to sort it out, and knew that he would need his energy.

"You'll be round tomorrow to help me box the rest of my things up?" Teddy asked Victoire.

"Of course, remind me and again why you don't want me to help you place it?"

Teddy thought of how his room at his grandma's had turned out when Victoire had helped him redecorate it when they were nine. The hand-painted flowers and love hearts were still lining the skirting boards. "I don't need your 'woman's touch!'" he shuddered.

"Fine," Victoire stuck her bottom lip out.

"Anyway, I was wondering what you were doing next Friday night?" Teddy asked.

"Thanks. And you know me; I'll have to check my busy schedule…"

"Shut up," Teddy grinned, "I'd be willing to bet 10 Galleons that you'd have ended up reading a book with candles and a blanket on the beach."

"Gambling is unappealing, Tedster," she replied, "and you of all people can't say anything when you're usually accompanying me! I'll bet half of your sketches are of Shell beach."

"More specifically, they're of you, actually."

"What – at the beach?" Victoire asked. "Why?"

"I need proof of how boring your company is- ow, kidding! I dunno, you just look sort of – have this mesmerising expression, when you read."

Victoire snorted, "that I have got to see."

"Maybe I'll show you one day. But as a preposition for us to get out more-" Victoire snorted, "you'll be joining me at a Muggle bar."

"Why don't we just go to the Three Broomsticks?" Victoire asked.

"How cultured are you? Muggle bars are different. Everyone dances at these, apparently."

"Like a ball?" Victoire asked, confused. "Or do I bring my ballet shoes?"

Teddy almost wished he could tell her to bring her dancing shoes because he loved to watch her dance. She had done ballet up until she started Hogwarts, and she had been brilliant. She hadn't bothered to go to camps during the summer to keep up with it as it was the only time she had with her family, but sometimes she'd start dancing as they were listening to the radio in his room and he was drawing. He would pause with that sketch immediately, and flip over the page to start drawing her.

"Neither. You dress fairly casually, so not ball gowns or anything but appropriate for the evening. I asked specifically."

"Who'd you ask?"

"Uh, the girl who's taking us. That's why I'm asking you so early; she wants confirmation so she can sort out her plans."

"Do I know her?"

"No, she's a Muggle, actually. 'Name's Daisy. I've been dating her since the beginning of August. She's been asking to meet you and suggested this 'club', I think she called it."

"And why have you not mentioned her to me before, 'best friend'?" Victoire questioned in mock offense, confused as to why her heart had starting to beat more quickly.

"I didn't need everyone warning me about the dangers of hanging around a Muggle."

"Hey everyone, Teddy's going out with a Mugg-" Teddy clamped a hand over her mouth, and she licked it, causing him to jump back in disgust.

"You know, graduates usually change from when they were seven."

"You hated me at seven," Victoire pointed out.

"My point exactly," Teddy flashed he a smile. "Anyway, I stopped hating you when I was around five-"

"And the rest, as they say it, was history," Victoire said dramatically, throwing an arm out for empathies, coincidentally knocking a jug out of her grandma's hand and spilling it down herself.

Teddy burst out laughing as Molly fussed over her, trying to wring out what she could from the bottom of her dress.

"Oh dear, I'm not sure if this'll come out," Molly fussed. "Maybe if we're quick… let's go get you changed."

Victoire rolled her eyes and motioned for Teddy to come with her.

He looked at her oddly, as if stating the obvious. "I can't?"

"Teddy, we bathed together ten years ago."

"Exactly. Ten years ago."

"What's changed? Afraid of some boobies?" Victoire laughed. "I'm kidding, grandma. Teddy has a _girlfriend_. Wouldn't want to give her any reason to worry."

"Don't be silly, Victoire. Teddy would choose you over any girl anyway, wouldn't you now, Teddy dear?"

"Suuure," He grinned in mock sarcasm, smiling after her shaking his head fondly as Molly led his best friend away. "See you Friday!"

* * *

_Thanks for reading, please let me know your opinions in a review!_

_I'm curious, who is your favourite next generation character, and who would you like to see more of? :)_


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